THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BEQUEST  OF 
PROFESSOR  JOHN  S.  P.  TATLOCK 


THE 


ANALOGY  OF  RELIGION, 

NATURAL  AND  REVEALED, 

TO   THE 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  OF  NATURE. 


JOSEPH   BUTLER,   LL.D. 

LATK  LORD  BISHOP  or  DURHAM 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

BY  ALBERT  BARNES. 


Ejus  (analogic)  hsec  vis  est.-ud  id  quod  dubium  est.  ad  aliqnid  simile  de  quo  1 
qiucntur,  referat ;  uc  iucerta  ccrtis  pro  bet  ...  Quint.  lost.  Orat.  1. 1  c.  6 


TWENTIETH    EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 
IVISON    &    PHINNEY,   178    FULTON  STREET; 

(MJCCKSSORS  or  NKWMAN  Je  IVISON,  AND  MARK  H.  SKWMAN  jc  CD.) 

OHICAf>0:    S.  C.  GRIGGSA  CO.,   Ill    LAKE  ST. 
BUFFALO:    PHINNEY    &    CO.,    I8«    MAIN    STREET. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  IK  the  year  1847 

RY    MARK   H.    NEWMAN    fc   CO., 

la  th»  Cle'kV  Ofiice  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Ultited  Stale 
t'*m  Southern  District  of  New  York 


stack 


I/OO  ' 


TO   THE 

RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

CHARLES,  LORD  TALKOT. 

BARON  OF  HENSOL, 

LORD   HIGH   CHANCFLLOR   OF   GREAT   BRITAIN. 
THE   FOLLOWING 

TREATISE 

19,   WITH   ALL   RESPECT,   INSCRIBED 
IN  ACKNOWLEDGMENT  OF  THE  HIGHEST  OBLIGATIONS 

TO   THE    LATE 

LORD    BISHOP    OF    DURHAM, 

AND    TO 

HIMSELF 

BY  HIS  LORDSHIP'S  MOST  DUTIFUL, 
MOST  DEVOTED, 

AND   MOST    HUMBLE    SERVANT 

JOSEPH  BUTLER. 


1523726 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY,  by  Albert  Barnes    ....  vii 

PHKFACE,  by  Bishop  Halifax, 1 

LIFE  OF  D.  BUTLER,  by  Dr.  Kippis, 19 

ADVERTISEMENT,                   ;        .......  27 

INTRODUCTION-.  29 


PART  I. 

OF  NATURAL  RELIGION. 
CHAP.  I. 


Of  P  Future  Life,        .......  .39 

CHAP.  II. 

Of  the  Government  of  God  by  Rewards  and  Punishments  ;  and 
particularly  of  the  latter,  t  ...        54 

CHAP.  III. 
Of  the  Moral  Government  of  God,       ......        6-1 

CHAP.  IV. 

Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  implying   Trial,  Difficulties,  and 

Danger,  .........        .84 

CHAP.  V. 

Of  a  State  of  Piobation,  as  intended  for  Moral  Discipline  and 
improvement,   .        .        .     •  .        »•"•".        .        .        .        .        91 

CHAP.  VI. 

On  the  Opinion  of  Necessity,  considered  as  influencing  Practice,       110 
CHAP.  VII. 

Of  the  Government  of  God,  considered  as  a  scheme,  or  Constitu- 
tion, imperfectly  comprehended,        ......       123 

CONCLUSION,  133 


CONTESTS. 

PART  II. 
OF  REVEALED  RELIGION 


CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  importance  of  Christianity,   . 


CHAP.  II. 

Of  the  supposed  Presumption  against  a  Revelation  considered  a* 
Miraculous, 154 

CHAP.  III. 

Of  our  incapacity  of  judging  what  were  to  be  expected  in  a  Revela- 
tion; and  the  Credibility,  from  Analogy,  that  it  must  contain 
Things  appearing  liable  to  Objections, 160 

CHAP.  IV. 

Of  Christianity,  considered  as  a  Scheme,  or  Constitution,  imperfectly 
comprehended, 173 

CHAP.  V. 

Of  the  particular  System  of  Christianity ;  the  appointment  of  a  Me- 
diator, and  the  Redemption  of  the  World  by  him,  .  ...  180 

CHAP.  VI. 

Of  the  Want  of  Universality  in  Revelation ;  and  of  the  supposed 
Deficiency  in  the  proof  of  it,  .  ......  196 

CHAP.  VII. 
Of  the  particular  evidence  for  Christianity 213 

CHAP.  VIII. 

Of  the  objections  which  may  be  made  against  arguing  from  the  Anal- 
ogy of  Nature  to  Religion,  ........  241 

CONCLUSION, ". '      .  '» "«       ,*ip  .        .    251 


TWO   DISSERTATIONS   ON   PERSONAL   IDENTITY. 

Dissert.  1 258 

Divert.  II,       .  • 264 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY, 

BY  ALBERT  BARNES. 


[NOTE.  The  following  Essay  iras  originally  prepared  as  a  Review  of 
Butler's  Analog,  for  the  Quarterly  Christian  Spectator,  and  appeared  in 
that  work  in  the  Numbers  for  December,  1830,  and  March,  1831.  With 
some  slicht  alterations  and  additions,  it  is  now  reprinted  as  an  Introductory 
Essay  to  this  Edition  of  the  Analogy.] 

PtiiladeiphUi,  Sept.  6,  1332. 

IN  directing  the  attention  of  our  readers  to  the  great  work 
whose  title  we  have  placed  at  the  head  of  this  article,  we  suppose 
we  are  rendering  an  acceptable  service  chiefly  to  one  class.  The 
ministers  of  religion,  we  presume,  need  not  our  humble  recom- 
mendation of  a  treatise  so  well  known  as  Butler's  Analogy.  It 
will  not  be  improper,  however,  to  suggest  that  even  our  clerical 
readers  may  be  less  familiar  than  they  should  be,  with  a  work 
which  saps  all  the  foundations  of  unbelief;  and  may,  perhaps, 
have  less  faithfully  carried  out  the  principles  of  the  Analogy,  and 
interwoven  them  less  into  their  theological  system,  than  might 
reasonably  have  been  expected.  Butler  already  begins  to  put  on 
the  venerable  air  of  antiquity.  He  belongs,  in  the  character  of 
his  writings  at  least,  to  the  men  of  another  age.  He  is  abstruse, 
profound,  dry,  and,  to  minds  indisposed  to  thought,  is  often  wea- 
risome and  'disgusting.  Even  in  clerical  estimation,  then,  his 
work  may  sometimes  be  numbered  amon^  those  repulsive  moifu- 
ments  of  ancient  wisdom,  which  men  of  this  age  pass  by  indis- 
criminately, as  belonging  to  times  of  barbarous  strength  and 
unpolished  warfare. 

But  our  design  in  bringing  Butler  more  distinctly  before  the 
public  eye,  has  respect  primarily  to  another  class  of  our  readers 
In  an  age  pre-eminently  distinguished  for  the  short-lived  produc- 
tions of  the  imagination;  when  reviewers  feel  themselves  bound 
to  serve  up  to  the  public  taste,  rather  the  deserts  and  confectiona- 
ries  of  the  literary  world,  than  the  sound  and  wholesome  fare  of 
other  times ;  when,  in  many  places,  it  is  even  deemed  stupid  ano 
old-fashioned  to  notice  an  ancient  book,  or  to  speak  of  the  wis- 
dom of  our  fathers ;  we  desire  to  do  what  may  lie  in  our  powe> 
to  stay  tne  headlong  propensities  of  the  times,  and  recal  the  pub- 
lic mind  to  the  records  of  pnst  wisdom.  We  have,  indeed,  nu 
olind  predilection  for  the  principles  of  other  days.  We  bow  down 
pefore  no  opinion  because  it  is  ancient.  We  even  feel  and 
believe,  that  in  all  the  momentous  questions  pertaining  to  morals, 
politics,  science,  and  religion,  we  are  greatly  in  advance  of  pasi 
ages.  And  our  hearts  expand  with  joy  at  the  prospect  of  still 
greater  simplicity  and  clearness,  in  the  statement  and  defence 
of  the  cardinal  doctrines  of  the  reformation .  Most  of  the  mon  u- 


VU1  IKTEODrCTORT  ESSATf. 

ments  of  past  wisdom,  we  believe  capable  of  improvement  ii 
these  respects.  Thus  we  regard  the  works  of  Luther,  Calvin,, 
Be/a,  and  Owen.  We  look  on  them  as  vast  repositories  01 
learning,  piety  and  genius.  In  the  great  doctrines  which  these 
works  were  intended  to  support,  we  do  firmly  believe.  Slill, 
though  we  love  to  linger  in  the  society  of  such  men  :  and  though 
ovr  humble  intellect  bows  before  them,  as  in  the  presence  of 
transcendent  genius,  yet  we  feel  that  in  some  things  their  views 
were  darkened  by  the  habits  of  thinking  of  a  less  cultivated  age 
than  this ;  that  their  philosophy  was  often  wrong,  while  the  doc- 
trines which  they  attempted  to  defend  by  it  were  still  correct; 
and  that  even  they  would  have  hailed,  on  manjr  topics,  the 
increased  illumination  of  later  times.  Had  modern  ways  of 
thinking  been  applied  to  their  works;  had  the  results  of  a  deeper 
investigation  into  the  laws  of  the  mind,  and  the  principles  of 
biblical  criticism,  been  in  their  possession,  their  works  would 
have  been  the  most  perfect  records  of  human  wisdom  which  the 
world  contains. 

Some  of  those  great  monuments  of  the  power  of  humau 
thought,  however,  stand  complete.  By  a  mighty  effort  of  genius, 
their  authors  seized  on  truth  ;  they  fixed  it  in  permanent  forms; 
they  chained  down  scattered  reasonings,  and  left  them  to  be  sur- 
veyed by  men  of  less  mental  stature  and  far  feebler  powers.  It 
is  a  proof  of  no  mean  talent  now  to  be  able  to  follow  where  they 
lead,  to  grasp  in  thought,  what  they  had  the  power  to  originate. 
They  framed  a  complete  system  at  the  first  touch;  and  all  that 
.emains  for  coming  ages,  corresponds  to  what  Johnson  has  said 
of  poets  in  respect  to  Homer,  to  transpose  their  arguments,  new 
name  their  reasonings,  and  paraphrase  their  sentiments.*  The 
woflcs  of  such  men  are  a  collection  of  principles  to  be  carried  into 
every  region  of  morals  and  theology,  as  a  standard  of  all  other 
views  of  truth.  Such  a  distinction  we  are  disposed  to  give  to 
Butler's  Analogy;  and  it  is  because  we  deem  it  worthy  of  such  a 
distinction,  that  we  now  single  it  out  from  the  great  works  of  the 
past,  and  commend  it  to  the  attention  of  our  readers. 

There  are  two  great  departments  of  investigation,  respecting 
the  "analogy  of  religion  to  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature.' 
The  one  contemplates  that  analogy  as  existing  between  the 
declarations  of  the  Bible,  and  ascertained  facts  in  the  structure 
of  the  globe,— the  organization  of  the  animal  system,— the  me- 
morials of  ancient  history, — the  laws  of  light,  heat,  and  grf. vita- 
ion, — the  dimensions  of  the  earth,  and  the  form  and  motion  of 
the  heavenly  bodies.  From  all  these  sources,  objections  have 
been  derived  against  revelation.  The  most  furious  attacks  have 
been  made,  at  one  time  by  the  geologist,  and  at  another  by  the 
astronome^:  on  one  pretence  by  the  antiquarian,  and  on  another 
by  the  chymist,  against  some  part  of  the  system  of  revealed  truth. 
Ye;  never  have  any  assaults  been  less  successful.  Every  effort 
of  this  kind  has  resulted  in  the  establishment  of  this  great  (ruth. 

fohnuon.     f  refits  tu  ^I 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  IX 

that  no  man  has  yet  commenced  an  investigation  of  the  works 
of  nature,  for  the  purpose  of  assailing  revelation,  who  did  noi 
altimately  exhibit  important  facts  in  its  confirmation,  just  in 
proportion  lo  Irs  eminence  and  success  in  his  own  department 
of  inquiry.  We  are  never  alarmed,  therefore,  when  we  see  ar 
infidel  philosopher  of  real  talents,  commence  an  investigation 
into  the  works  of  nature.  We  hail  his  labours  as  destined  ul'.i- 
macely  to  be  auxiliary  to  the  cause  of  truth.  We  have  learned 
that  here  Christianity  has  nothing  to  fear;  and  men  of  science, 
we  believe,  are  beginning  to  understand  that  here  infidelity  has 
nothing  to  hope.  As  a  specimen  of  the  support  which  Chris- 
tianity receives  from  the  researches  of  science,  w.  refer  our 
readei-s  to  Ray's  Wisdom  of  God,  to  Paley's  Natural  Theology, 
and  to  Dick's  Christian  Philosopher. 

The  other  department  of  investigation  to  which  we  referred,  is 
that  which  relates  lo  the  analogy  of  revealed  truth  to  the  actual 
facts  exhibited  in  the  moral  government  of  th  world.  This  is  the 
department  which  Butler  has  entered,  and  which  he  has  so  suc- 
cessfully explored.  It  is  obvious  that  the  first  is  a  wider  field  in 
regard  to  the  number  of  facts  which  bear  on  the  analogy:  the 
latter  is  more  profound  and  less  tangible  in  relation  to  the  great 
subjects  of  theological  debate.  The  first  meets  more  directly  the 
open  and  plausible  objections  of  the  blasphemer;  the  latter 
represses  the  secret  infidelity  of  the  human  heart,  and  silences 
more  effectually  the  ten  thousand  clamours  which  are  accustomed 
to  be  raised  against  the  peculiar  d6ctrines  of  the  Bible.  The  first 
is  open  to  successive  advances,  and  will  be  so.  till  the  whole 
physical  structure  of  the  world  is  fully  investigated  and  known. 
The  latter,  we  may  almost  infer,  seems  destined  to  rest  where  it 
now  is,  and  to  stand  before  the  world  as  complete  as  it  ever  will 
De,  by  one  prodigious  effort  of  a  gigantic  mind.  Each  successive 
chymist,  antiquarian,  astronomer,  and  anatomist,  will  throw  light 
on  some  great  department  of  human  knowledge,  to  be  moulded 
to  the  purposes  of  religion,  by  some  future  Paley,  or  Dick,  or 
Good  ;  and  in  every  distinguished  man  of  science,  whatever  may 
be  his  religious  feelings,  we  hail  an  ultimate  auxiliary  to  the 
cause  of  truth.  Butler,  however,  seems  to  stand  alone.  No 
adventurous  mind  has  attempted  to  press  his  great  principles  of 
thought,  still  further  into  the  regions  of  moral  inquiry.  Though 
the  subject  of  moral  government  is  better  understood  now  than 
it  was  in  his  day  ;  though  light  has  been  thrown  on  the  doctrines 
of  theology,  and  a  perceptible  advance  been  made  in  the  know- 
leJge  of  the  laws  of  the  mind,  yet  whoever  now  wishes  to  know 
"  the  analogy  of  religion  to  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature," 
nas  nowhere  else  lo  go  but  to  Butler, — or  if  he  is  able  to  apply 
the  prim  iples  of  Butler,  he  has  only  to  incorporate  them  with  his 
uwn  reasonings,  to  furnish  the  solution  of  those  facts  and  diffi- 
culties that  "  perplex  mortals."  We  do  not  mean  by  this,  that 
Butler  has  exhausted  the  subject.  We  mean  only  that  no  man 
has  attempted  to  carry  it  beyond  the  point  where  he  left  it;  and 
thnt  his  work,  though  not  in  our  view  as  complete  as  modern 


1  fNTEOPUCTOhy  ESSAY. 

habits  of  thought  would  permit  it  to  be,  yet  stands  like  one  of 
those  vast  piles  of  architecture  commenced  in  the  middle  ages, 
proofs  of  consummate  skill,  of  vast  power,  ot  amazing  wealth,  yet 
in  some  respects  incomplete  or  disproportioned,  but  which  no  one 
since  has  dared  to  remodel,  and  which  no  one,  perhaps,  has  hat? 
either  the  wealth,  power,  or  genius,  to  make  m^:e  complete. 

Of  Butler,  as  a  man.  little  is  known.  This  is  one  of  the  many 
cases  where  we  are  compelled  to  lament  the  want  of  a  full  and 
faithful  biography.  With  the  leading  facts  of  his  life  as  a  parish 
priest  and  a  prelate,  we  are  indeed  made  acquainted.  But  here 
our  knowledge  of  him  ends.  Of  Butler  as  a  man  of  piety,  of  the 
secret,  practical  operations  of  his  mind,  we  know  little.  Now  it 
is  obvious,  that  we  could  be  in  possession  of  no  legacy  more 
valuable  in  regard  to  such  a  man,  than  the  knowledge  of  the 
secret  feelings  of  his  heart ;  of  the  application  of  his  own  modes 
of  thinking  to  his  own  soul,  to  subdue  the  ever-varying  forms  of 
human  weakness  and  guilt ;  and  of  his  practical  way  of  obvia- 
ting, for  his  personal  comfort,  the  suggestions  of  unbelief  in  his 
own  bosom.  This  fact  we  know,  that  he  was  engaged  upon  his 
Analogy  during  a  period  of  twenty  years.  Yet  we  know  nothing 
of  the  effect  on  his  own  soul,  of  the  mode  in  which  he  blunted 
and  warded  off  the  poisoned  shafts  of  infidelity.  Could  we  see 
the  internal  organization  of  his  mind,  as  we  can  now  see  that  of 
Johnson,  could  we  trace  the  connexion  between  his  habits  of 
thought  and  his  pious  emotions,  it  would  be  a  treasure  to  the 
world  equalled  perhaps  only  by  his  Analogy,  and  one  which  we 
may  in  vain  hope  now  to  possess.  The  true  purposes  of  biogra- 
phy have  been  hitherto  but  little  understood.  The  mere  external 
events  pertaining  to  great  men  are  often  of  little  value.  They 
are  without  the  mind,  and  produce  feelings  unconnected  with  any 
important  purposes  of  human  improvement.  Who  reads  now 
with  any  emotion  except  regret  that  this  is  all  he  can  read  of 
such  a  man  as  Butler,  that  he  was  born  in  1692.,  graduated  at 
Oxford  in  1721,  preached  at  the  Rolls  till  1726,  was  made  bishop 
of  Durham  in  1750,  and  died  in  1752?  We  learn,  indeed,  that 
he  was  high  in  favour  at  the  university,  and  subsequently  at 
court ;  that  he  was  retiring,  modest  and  unassuming  in  }?:'? 
deportment;  and  that  his  elevation  to  the  Deanery  of  St.  lV,Js, 
and  to  the  princely  See  of  Durham,  was  not  the  effect  of  ambi- 
tion, but  the  voluntary  tribute  of  those  in  power  to  transcendent 
talent  and  exalted,  though  retiring,  worth.  An  instance  of  his 
modest  and  upambitious  habits,  given  in  the  record  of  liis  life, 
is  worthy  of  preservation,  and  is  highly  illustrative  of  his  charac- 
ter. For  seven  years  he  was  occupied  in  the  humble  and  labo- 
rious duties  of  a  parish  priest,  at  Stanhope.  His  friends  rejj ret- 
ted his  retirement,  and  sought  preferment  for  him.  Mr.  Seeker, 
an  intimate  friend  of  Bu'ler,  being  made  chaplain  to  the  lung,  in 
1732,  one  day  in  conversation  with  Queen  Caroline  look  occasion 
to  mention  his  friend's  name.  The  queen  said  she  thought  he 
was  dead,  and  asked  Archbishop  Blackburn  if  that  was  not  the 
case.  His  reply  was,  "  No,  madam,  but  he  is  buried.'  He  was 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSA.T.  XI 

thus  raised  again  to  notice,  and  ultimately  to  high  honors,  in 
the  hierarchy  of  the  English  church. 

Butler  was  naturally  of  a  contemplative  and  somewhat  melan- 
choly turn  of  mind.  "He  sought  retirement,  therefore,  and  yet 
needed  society.  It  is  probable  that  natural  inclination,  as  well 
as  the  prevalent  habits  of  unbelief  in  England,  suggested  the 
plan  of  his  Analogy.  Yet  though  retiring  and  unambitious,  he 
was  lauded  in  the  days  of  his  advancement,  as  sustaining  the 
episcopal  office  with  great  dignity  and  splendour;  as  conducting 
the  ceremonies  of  religion  with  a  pomp  approaching  the  gran- 
deur of  the  Roman  Catholic  form  of  worship  ;  and  as  treating  the 
neighbouring  clergy  and  nobility  with  the  "  pride,  pomp,  and  cir- 
cumstance.'^becoming,  in  their  view,  a  minister  of  Jesus,  trans- 
formed into  a  nobleman  of  secular  rank,  and  reckoned  among 
the  great  officers  of  state.  These'are,  in  our  view,  spots  in  the 
life  of  Butler ;  and  all  atiernpts  to  conceal  them,  have  only  rendered 
them  more  glaring.  No  authority  of  antiquity,  no  plea  of  th« 
grandeur  of  imposing  rites,  can  justify  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance appropriate  to  an  English  prelatical  bishop,  or  invest  wila 
sacred  authority  the  canons  of  a  church,  that  appoints  the  hum 
ble  ministers  of  him  who  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head,  to  the 
splendours  of  a  palace  or  the  pretended  honours  of  an  archiepisco- 
pal  throne — to  a  necessary  alliance,  under  every  danger  to  per- 
sonal and  ministerial  character,  with  profligate  noblemen,  or 
intriguing  and  imperious  ministers.  But  Butler  drew  his  title  to 
memory  in  subsequent  ages,  neither  from  the  tinsel  of  rank,  the 
staffand  lawn  of  office,  nor  the  attendant  pomp  and  grandeur  aris- 
ing from  the  possession  of  one  of  the  richest  beneh'ces  in  Eng- 
land. Butler  the  prelate  will  be  forgotten.  Butler  the  author  oj 
Ihe  Analogy  will  live  to  the  last  recorded  time. 

In  the  Tew  remains  of  the  life  of  Butler,  we  lament,  still  more 
than  any  thing  we  have  mentioned,  that  we  learn  nothing  of  his 
habits  of  study,  his  mode -of  investigation,  and  especially  the  pro- 
cess by  which  he  composed  his  Analogy.  We  are  told  indeed 
that  it  combines  the  results  of  his  thoughts  for  twenty  years,  and 
his  observations  and  reading  during  that  long  period  of  his  life. 
He  is  said  to  have  written  and  re-written  different  parts  of  it,  to 
have  studied  each  word,  and  phrase,  until  it  expressed  precisely 
his  meaning  and  no  more.  It  bears  plenary  evidence,  that  it 
must  have  been  written  by  such  a  condensing  and  epitomizing 
process.  Any  man  may  be  satisfied  of  this,  who  attempts  to 
express  the  thoughts  in  other  language  than  that  employed  in 
the  Analogy.  Instinctively  the  sentences  and  paragraphs  will 
swell  out  to  a  much  greater  size,  and  defy  all  the  powers  we 
possess  to  reduce  them  to  their  primitive  dimensions,  unlens 
t.'iey  be  driven  wiihin  the  precise  enclosures  prescribed  by  the 
mind  of  Butler.  We  regret  in  vain  that  this  is  all  our  know- 
ledge of  the  mechanical  and  mental  process  by  which  this  book 
was  composed.  We  are  not  permitted  to  see  him  at  his  toil,  to 
mark  the  workings  of  his  mind,  and  to  learn  the  art  of  looking 
mtensely  at  a  thought.,  until  we  see  it  standing  alone,  aloof  from 


ill  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

all  attendants,  and  prepared  fora  permanent  location  where  the 
author  intended  to  fix  its  abode,  to  be  comtemplated  as  he  view- 
ed it,  in  all  coining  ages.  We  can  hardly  repress  our  indigna- 
tion, that  those  who  undertake  to  write  the  biography  of  such 
gifted  men,  should  not  tell  us  less  of  their  bodies,  their  trappings, 
their  honours  and  their  offices,  and  more  of  the  workings  of  the 
spirit,  the  process  of  subjecting  and  restraining  the  native  wan- 
derings of  the  mind.  Nor  can  we  suppress  the  sigh  of  regret 
that  he  has  not  himself  revealed  to  us,  what  no  other  map  could 
have  done  ;  and  admitted  subsequent  admirers  to  the  intimacy  of 
friendship,  and  to  a  contemplation  of  the  process  by  which  the 
Analogy  was  conceived  and  executed.  Over  the  past  however  it 
is  in  vain  to  sigh.  Every  man  feels  that  hitherto  we  have  had 
hut  little  Biography.  Sketches  of  the  external  circumstances  o! 
many  men  we  have — genealogical  tables  without  number,  and 
without  end — chronicled  wonders,  that  such  a  man  was  born  and 
died,  ran  through  such  a  circle  of  honours,  and  obtained  such  a 
mausoleum  to  his  memory.  But  histories  of  mind  we  have  not; 
and  for  all  the  great  purposes  of  knowledge,  we  should  know  as 
much  of  the  man,  if  we  had  not  looked  upon  the  misnamed 
biography. 

We  now  take  leave  of  Butler  as  a  man,  and '  direct  our 
thoughts  more  particularly  to  his  great  work.  Those  were  dark 
and  portentous  times  which  succeeded  the  reign  of  the  second 
Charles.  That  voluptuous  and  witty  monarch,  had  contributed 
more  than  any  mortal  before  or  since  his  time,  to  fill  a  nation 
with  infidels,  and  debauchees.  Corruption  had  seized  upon  the 
highest  orders  of  the  state ;  and  it  flowed  down  on  all  ranks  of 
the  community.  Every  grade  in  life  had  caught  the  infection 
of  the  court.  Profligacy  is  alternately  the  parent  and  the  child 
of  unbelief.  The  unthinking  multitude  of  courtiers  and  flatterers, 
that  fluttered  around  the  court  of  Charles  had  learned  to  scoff  at 
Christianity,  and  to  consider  it  as  not  worth  the  trouble  of  anx- 
ious thought.  The  influence  of  the  court  extended  over  the  na- 
tion. It  soon  infected  the  schools  and  professions :  and  perhaps 
there  has  not  been  a  time  in  British  history,  when  infidelity  had 
become  so  general,  and  had  assumed  a  form  so  malignant.  It 
had  attached  itself  to  dissoluteness,  deep,  dreadful,  and  universal. 
It  was  going  hand  in  hand  Avith  all  the  pleasures  of  a  profligate 
court,  it  was  identified  with  all  that  actuated  tl:-3  souls  of  Charles 
and  his  ministers;  it  was  the  kind  of  infidelity  which  fitted  an 
unthinking  age — scorning  alike  reason,  philosophy,  patient 
thought,  and  purity  of  morals.  So  that  in  the  language  of  But- 
ler, "  it  had  come  to  be  taken  for  granted  by  many  persons,  that 
Christianity  is  not  so  much  as  a  subject  of  investigation,  but  that 
it  is  now  at  length,  discovered  to  be  fictitious,  and  accordingly 
they  treat  it,  as  if  in  the  present  age,  this  were  an  agreed  point 
among  all  people  of  discernment,  and  nothing  remained  but  to 
set  it  up  a?  a  principal  subject  of  mirth  and  ridicule,  as  it  were 
oy  way  of  reprisals  for  its  having  so  long  interrupted  tke  plea- 
sures pf  the  world."  In  times  oi  such  universal  profligacy  and 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT.  X1L 

Infidelity  arose  in  succession,  Locke,  Newton,  and  Butler,  the 
wo  former  of  whom  we  need  not  say  hnve  been  unsurpassed  in 
great  powers  of  thought,  and  in  the  influence  which  they  ex- 
erted on  the  sentiments  of  mankind.  It  needed  such  men  to 
bring  back  a  volatile  generation  to  habits  of  profound  thought  in 
the  sciences.  It  needed  such  a  man  as  Butler,  in  our  view  not 
i.  ft-rior  in  profound  thought  to  either,  and  whose  works  will 
nave  a  more  permanent  effect  on  the  destinies  of  men,  than  both 
—  to  arrest  the  giddy  steps  of  a  nation,  to  bring  religion  from  the 
palace  of  a  scofiing  prince  and  court  to  the  bar  of  sober  thought, 
and  to  show  that  Christianity  was  not  undeserving  of  sober 
inquiry.  This  was  the  design  of  the  Analogy.  It  was  not  so 
much  to  furnish  a  complete  demonstration  of  the  iruth  of  reli- 
gion, as  to  show  that  it  could  not  be  proved  to  be  false.  It  Avas 
to  show  that  it  accorded  with  a  great,  every  where  seen,  system 
of  things  actually  going  on  in  the  world  ;  and  that  attacks  made 
on  Christianity  were  to  the  same  extent  assaults  on  the  course  of 
nature,  and  of  nature's  God.  Butler  pointed  the  unbeliever  to  a 
grand  system  of  things  in  actual  existence,  a  world  with  every 
variety  of  character,  feeling,  conduct  and  results — a  system  of 
things  deeply  mysterious,  yet  developing  great  principles,  and 
bearing  proof  that  it  was  under  the  government  of  God.  He 
traced  certain  indubitable  act.s  of  the  Almighty  in  a  course  of 
nature,  whose  existence  could  not  be  denied.  Now  if  it  could  bt 
shown  that  Christianity  contained  like  results,  acts,  and  princi- 
oles ;  if  it  was  a  scheme  involving  no  greater  mystery,  and 
iemanding  a  correspondent  conduct  on  the  part  of  man,  it  would 
be  seen  that  it  had  proceeded  from  the  same  author.  In  other 
words  the  objections  alleged  against  Christianity,  being  equally 
applicable  against  the  course  of  nature,  could  not  be  valid.  To 
show  this,  was  the  design  of  Butler.  In  doing  this,  he  carrier! 
the  war  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy.  He  silenced  the  objec  or's 
arguments ;  or  if  he  still  continued  to  urge  them,  showed  him 
that  with  equal  propriety  they  could  be  urged  against  the  acknow- 
ledged course  of  things,  against  his  own  principles  of  conduct 
on  other  subjects,  against  what  indubitably  affected  his  condition 
here,  and  what  might  therefore  affect  his  doom  hereafter. 

We  are  fond  of  thus  looking  at  the  Bible  as  part  of  one  vast 
plan  of  communicating  truth  to  created  intelligences.  We  know 
it  is  the  fullest,  and  most  grand,  of  all  God's  ways  of  teaching 
men,  .standing  amidst  the  sources  of  information,  as  the  sun  does 
amidst  the  stars  of  heaven,  quenching  their  feeble  glimmerings 
An  the  fulness  of  its  meridian  splendour.  But  to  carry  forward 
llie  illustration,  the  sun  does,  indeed,  cause  the  stars  of  night  "to 
"hide  their  diminished  heads,"  but  we  see  in  both  but  one  sys- 
tem of  laws ;  and  whether  in  the  trembling  of  the  minutest  orb 
that  emits  its  faint  rays  to  us  from  the  farthest  bounds  of  space. 
or  the  full  light  of  the  sun  at  noon-day,  we  trace  the  hand  of  the 
same  God,  and  feel  that  "  all  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous 
whole."  Thus  it  is  with  revelation.  We  know  that  its  truths 
«ompme  all  that  the  world  elsewhere  contains,  that  its  authority 
2 


V  IXTRODTTCTORY  ESSAY. 

is  supreme  over  all  the  other  sources  of  knowledge,  and  ali 
the  other  facts  of  the  moral  system.  But  there  are  other 
sources  of  information — a  vast  multitude  of  facts  that  we 
expect  to  find  in  accordance  with  this  brighter  effulgence 
from  heaven,  and  it  is  these  facts  which  the  Analogy  brings  to 
the  aid  of  revelation.  The  Bible  is  in  religion,  what  the  tele- 
scope is  in  astronomy.  It  does  not  contradict  any  thing  before 
known  ;  it  does  not  annihilate  any  thing  before  seen  ;  it  carries 
the  e\e  forward  into  new  worlds,  opens  it  upon  more  splendid 
fields  of  vision,  and  displays  grander  systems,  Avhere  we  thought 
there  was  but  the  emptiness  of  space,  or  the  darkness  of  illimit- 
able and  profound  night ;  and  divides  the  milky  way  into  vast 
clusters  of  suns  and  stars,  of  worlds  and  systems.  In  all  the 
boundlessness  of  these  fields  of  vision,  however,  does  the  tele- 
scope point  us  to  any  new  laws  of  acting,  any  new  principle  by 
which  the  universe  is  governed?  The  astronomer  tells  us  not. 
It  is  the  hand  of  the  same  God  which  he  sees,  impelling  the  new 
worlds  that  burst  on  the  view  in  the  immensity  of  space,  with 
the  same  irresistible  and  inconceivable  energy,  and  encompass- 
ing them  with  the  same  clear  fields  of  light.  So  we  expect  to 
find  it  in  revelation.  We  expect  to  see  plans,  laws,  purposes, 
actions  and  results,  uniform  with  the  facts  in  actual  existence 
before  our  eyes.  Whether  in  the  smiles  of  an  infant,  or  the 
wrapt  feelings  of  a  seraph;  in  the  strength  of  manhood,  or  the 
power  of  Gabriel;  in  the  rewards  of  virtue  here,  or  the  crown  of 
glory  hereafter,  we  expect  to  find  the  Creator  acting  on  one  grand 
principle  of  moral  government,  applicable  to  all  these  facts,  and 
to  be  vindicated  by  the  same  considerations. 

When  we  approach  the  Bible,  we  are  at  once  struck  with  a 
most  striking  correspondence  of  plan  to  that  which  obtains  in  f/ie 
natural  world.  When  we  teach  theology  in  our  schools  we  do  it 
by  system,  by  form,  by  technicalities.  We  frame  what  we  call 
a  "  body  of  divinity,"  expecting  all  i's  parts  to  cohere  and  agree. 
We  shape  nnd  clip  the  angles  anu  points  of  our  theology,  till  they 
shall  fit,  like  the  polished  stones  of  the  temple  of  Solomon,  into 
their  place.  So  when  we  teach  astronomy,  botany,  or  geogra- 
phy, it  is  by  a  regular  system  before  us,  having  the  last  discove- 
ries of  the  science  located  in  their  proper  place.  But  how  differ- 
ent is  the  plan,  which,  in  each  of  these  departments,  is  pursued 
by  infinite  wisdom.  The  truths  which  God  designs  to  teach  us, 
lie  spread  over  a  vast  compass.  They  are  placed  without  much 
apparent  order.  Those  of  revelation  lie  before  us,  just  as  the 
various  facts  do,  which  go  to  make  up  a  system  of  botany  or 
astronomy.  The  great  Author  of  nature  has  not  placed  all  flow- 
ers in  a  single  situation,  nor  given  them  a  scientific  arrange- 
ment. They  are  scattered  over  the  wide  world.  Part  bloom  on 
the  mountain,  part  in  the  valley;  part  shed  their  fragrance  near 
the  running  stream  ;  part  pour  their  sAveetness  in  the  desert  air 
':  in  the  solitary  waste  where  no  man  is ;"  part  climb  in  vines  to 
giddy  heights,  and  part  are  found  in  the  bosom  of  the  mighty 
waters.  He  that  forms  a  vheory  of  botany  must  dc  it,  therefore 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XV 

with  hardy  toil.  He  will  find  the  materials,  not  the  tystem,  made 
ready  to  his  hands.  He  will  exhaust  his  life  perhaps  in  his 
lahour,  before  the  system  stands  complete.  Why  should  we  not 
expect  to  find  the  counterpart  of  all  this  in  religion?  When  we 
look  at  the  Bihie,  we  find  the  same  state  of  things.  At  first  but 
a  ray  of  light  beamed  upon  the  dark  path  of  our  apostate  parents, 
wandering  from  paradise.  The  sun  that  had  stood  over  their 
heads  in  the  garden  of  pleasure,  at  their  fall  sunk  to  the  west 
and  left  them  in  the  horrors  of  a  moral  midnight.  A  single  ray, 
in  the  promise  of  a  Saviour,  shot  along  their  path,  and  directed 
to  the  source  of  day.  But  did  God  reveal  a  whole  system  ?  Dili 
he  tell  them  all  the  truth  that  he  knew?  Did  he  tell  all  that  we 
know?  He  did  just  as  we  have  supposed  in  regard  to  the  first 
botanist.  The  eye  was  fixed  on  one  truth  distinctly.  Subse- 
quent revelations  shed  new  light;  advancing  facts  confirmed 
preceding  doctrines  and  promises;  rising  prophets  gave  confiirn 
ation  to  the  hopes  of  men  ;  precepts,  laws,  and  direct  revelation! 
rose  upon  the  world,  until  the  system  of  revealed  truth  is  now 
complete.  Man  has  all  he  can  have,  except  the  facts  which  ihe 
progress  of  things  is  yet  to  develope  in  confirmation  of  the  system  ; 
just  as  each  new  budding  flower  goes  to  confirm  the  just  princi- 
ples of  the  naturalist,  and  to  show  what  the  system  is.  Yet  how 
do  we  possess  the  system?  As  arranged,  digested,  and  reduced 
to  order?  Far  from  it.  We  have  the  book  of  revelation  just 
ns  we  have  the  book  of  nature.  In  the  beginning  of  the  Bible, 
for  example,  we  have  a  truth  abstractly  taught,  in  another  part 
illustrated  in  the  life  of  a  prophet;  as  we  advance  it  is  confirmed 
by  the  fuller  revelation  of  the  Saviour  or  the  apostles,  and  we 
find  its  full  development  only  when  the  whole  book  is  complete. 
Here  stands  a  law;  there  a  promise;  there  a  profound  mystery, 
unarranged,  undigested,  yet  strikingly  accordant  with  a  multitude 
of  correspondent  views  in  the  Bible,  and  with  as  many  in  the 
moral  world.  Now  here  is  a  mode  of  communication,  which 
imposture  would  have  carefully  avoided,  because  detection,  it 
would  foresee,  must,  on  such  a  plan,  be  unavoidable.  It  seems 
to  us  that  ir  men  had  intended  to  impose  a  system  on  the  world 
it  would  have  been  somewhat  in  the  shape  of  our  bodies  ol  divi- 
nity, and  therefore  very  greatly  unlike  the  plan  which  we  actu- 
ally find  in  the  Bible.  At  any  rate,  we  approach  the  Scriptures 
with  this  strong  presumption  in  favour  of  its  truth,  that  it  accords 
precisely  with  Avhat  we  see  in  astronomy,  chymistry,  botany, 
ar.d  geography,  and  that  the  mode  of  constructing  systems 
in  all  these  sciences,  is  exactly  the  same  as  in  dogmatical 
theology. 

We  have  another  remark  to  make  on  this  subject.  The  bota- 
nist does  nut  shape  his  facts.  He  is  the  collector,  the  arranger, 
not  the  originaror.  So  the  framer  of  systems  in  religion  should 
oft— and  it  is  matter  of  deep  regret  that  such  he  has  not.  been.  He 
should  be  merely  the  collector,  the  arranger,  not  the  originator 
of  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  Though  then  we  think  him  of 
some  importance,  yet  we  do  not  set  a  high  value  on  his  labours. 


Xv  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

We  honour  the  toils  of  a  man  who  telh  of  the  u«es,  beauties  and 
medicinal  properties  of  the  plant,  far  more  than  of  him  who 
merely  declares  its  rank,  its  order,  its  class  in  the  Linnaean  sys« 
tern.  So  in  theology,  we  admire  the  greatness  of  mind  which 
can  hring  out  an  original  truth,  illustrate  it,  and  show  its  proper 
bearing  on  the  spiritual  interests  of  our  race,  far  more  than  we 
do  the  plodding  chiseller  who  shapes  it  to  its  place  in  his  -system. 
Il  makes  no  small  demand  on  our  patience,  when  we  see  the  sys- 
tem-maker remove  angle  after  angle,  and  apply  stroke  after 
stroke,  to  some  great  mass  of  truth  which  a  mighty  genius  has 
struck  out,  but  which  keen-eyed  and  jealous  orthodoxy  will  not 
admit  to  its  proper  bearing  on  the  souls  of  men,  until  n  is  located 
in  a  creed,  and  cramped  into  some  frame-work  of  faith,  that  has 
been  reared  around  the  Bible.  Our  sympathy  with  such  men  as 
Butler,  and  Chalmers,  and  Foster,  and  Hall,  is  far  greater  than 
with  Turretine  or  Ridgely.  With  still  less  patience  do  we  listen 
to  those  whose  only  business  it  is  to  shape  and  reduce  to  pre 
scribed  form  ;  who  never  look  at  a  passage  in  the  Bible  or  a  fact 
in  nature,  without  first  robbing  it  of  its  freshness,  by  an  attempt 
to  give  it  a  sectarian  location  : — who  never  stumble  on  an  ori- 
ginal and  unclassified  idea,  without  asking  whether  the  sysiem- 
malcer  had  left  any  niche  for  the  late-born  intruder;  and  who 
applies  to  it  all  tests,  as  to  a  non-descript  substance  in  chymistry, 
in  order  to  fasten  on  it  the  charge  of  an  affinity  with  some 
rejected  confession,  or  some  creed  of  a  suspected  name.  This  is 
to  abuse  reason  and  revelation,  for  the  sake  of  putting  honour  on 
creeds.  It  is  to  suppose  that  the  older  creed-rnakers  had  before 
them  all  shades  of  thought,  all  material  and  mental  facts,  all 
knowledge  of  what  mind  has  been  and  can  be,  and  all  other  know- 
ledge of  the  adaptedness  of  the  Bible,  to  every  enlarged  and  fluc- 
tuating process  of  thought.  It  is  to  doom  the  theologian  to  an 
eternal  dwelling  in  Greenland  frost  and  snows,  instead  of  sending 
him  forth  to  breathe  the  mild  air  of  freedom,  and  to  make  him  a 
large-minded  and  fearless  interpreter  of  the  oracles  of  God. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  follow  the  profound  author  of  the 
Analogy  through  his  laboured  demonstrations,  or  to  attempt  to 
offer  an  abridged  statement  of  his  reasoning.  Butler,  as  we  have 
already  remarked,  is  incapable  of  abridgement.  His  thoughts 
are  already  condensed  into  as  narrow  a  compass,  as  the  nature 
ol  language  will  admit.  All-  that  we  purpose  to  do,  is  to  give  a 
specimen  of  the  argument  from  analogy  in  support  of  the  Chris- 
tian  religion,  without  ve?y  closely  following  the  book  before  us. 

The  main  points  at  issue  between  Christianity  and  its  opposers 
are,  whether  there  is  a  future  state ;  whether  our  conduct  here 
will  affect  our  condition  there;  whether  God  so  controls  things 
as  to  reward  and  punish  ;  whether  it  is  reasonable  to  act  with 
reference  to  our  condition  hereafter;  whether  the  favour  of  Goc1 
;s  to  be  obtained  with,  or  without  the  mediation  of  another, 
whether  crime  and  suffering  are  indissolubly  united  ir.  the  moral 
government  of  God ;  and  whether  Christianity  is  a  scheme  hi 
accordance  with  the  acknowledged  laws  of  the  universe  and  ia 


INTRODTTCTORr  ESSAY.  mi 

by  evidence  so  clear  as  to  make  it  proper  to  act  en  the 
Oelief  of  its  truth. 

Infidelity,  in  its  proper  form,  approaches  man  with  the  decia- 
ation  that  there  cannot  be  a  future  state.  It  affirms,  often  with 
much  apparent  concern,  that  there  can  be  no  satisfactory  evi- 
dence of  what  pertains  to  a  dark,  invisible,  and  distant  world; 
that  the  mind  is  incompetent  to  set  up  landmarks  along  its  future 
course,  and  that  we  can  have  no  certain  proof  that  in  that  dark 
abyss,  we  shall  live,  act,  or  think  at  all.  It  affirms  that  the 
whole  analogy  of  things  is  against  such  a  supposition.  We  have 
no  e\uleni't\  il  declares,  thaf  one  of  all  the  uu.lions  who  have 
died,  ha?  lived  beyond  the  grave.  In  sickness,  and  old  age,  it  is 
said  the  body  and  soul  seem  alike  to  grow  feeble  and  decay,  and 
both  seem  to  expire  together.  That. they  ever  exist  separate,  it 
is  said,  has  not  been  proved.  That  such  a  dissolution  and  sepa- 
rate existence  should  take  place,  is  affirmed  to  be  contrary  to  the 
analogy  of  all  other  things.  That  the  soul  and  body  should  he 
united  again,  and  constitute  a  single  being,  is  said  to  be  without 
a  parallel  fact  in  other  things,  to  divest  it  of  its  inherent  impro- 
bability. 

Now  let  us  suppose  for  a  moment  that,  endued  with  our  pre- 
sent powers  of  thought,  we  had  been  united  to  bodies  of  far  fee- 
bler frame  and  much  more  slender  dimensions,  than  we  now 
inhabit.  Suppose  that  our  spirits  had  been  doomed  to  inhabit 
the  body  of  a  crawling  reptile,  scarce  an  inch  in  length,  prone  on 
the  earth,  and  doomed  to  draAV  out  our  little  length  to  obtain  loco- 
motion from  day  to  day,  and  scarce  noticeable  by  the  mighty 
beings  above  us.  Suppose  in  that  lowly  condition,  as  we  con- 
templated the  certainty  of  our  speedy  dissolution,  we  should  look 
upon  our  kindred  reptiles,  the  partners  of  our  cares,  and  should 
see  their  strength  gradually  waste,  their  faculties  grow  dim,  their 
bodies  become  chill  in  death.  Suppose  now  it  should  be  revealed 
to  us,  that  those  bodies  should  undergo  a  transformation ;  that  at 
no  great  distance  of  time  they  should  start  up  into  new  being  ; 
that  in  their  narrow  graves  there  should  be  se-en  the  evidence  of 
returning  life ;  and  that  these  same  deformed,  prone,  and  decay- 
ing frames,  should  be  clothed  with  the  beauty  of  gaudy  colours, 
be  instinct  with  life,  leave  the  earth,  soar  at  pleasure  in  a  new 
element,  take  their  rank  in  a  neAV  order  of  beings,  be  divested  of 
all  thai  was  offensive  and  loathsome  in  their  old  abode  in  the 
eyes  of  other  beings;  and  be  completely  dissociated  from  all  the 
plans,  habits,  relations  and  feelings  of  their  former  lowly  condi- 
!ion.  We  ask  whether  against  this  supposition  there  would  not 
lie  all  the  objections,  which  have  ever  been  alleged  against  the 
doctrine  of  a  resurrection,  and  a  future  state  ?  Yet  the  world  has 
long  been  familiar  with  changes  of  this  character.  The  changes 
which  animal  nature  undergoes  to  produce  the  gay  colours  of  the 
butterfly,  have  as  much  antecedent  improbability  as  those  per- 
taining to  the  predicted  resurrection,  and  for  aught  that  we  can 
see,  are  improbabilities  of  precisely  the  same  nature.  So  in  a 
sase  still  more  in  point.  No  two  states  which  revelation  has 

a* 


XV1U  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

presented,  as  actually  contemplated  in  the  condition  of  man,  art 
more  unlike  than  those  of  an  unborn  infant,  and  of  a  hoary  man 
ripe  with  wisdom  and  honours.  To  us  it  appears  that  the  state 
of  the  embryo,  and  that  of  Newton,  Locke,  and  Bacon,  have  a', 
leasi.  as  much  dissimilarity,  as  those  between  man  here,  and 
man  in  a  future  state.  Grant  that  a  revelation  could  be  made  to 
SJicn  an  embryo,  and  it  would  be  attended  with  all  the  difficulties 
llint  are  supposed  to  attend  the  doctrine  of  revelation.  That  this 
unformed  being  should  leave  the  element  in  which  it  commences 
its  existence ;  that  it  should  be  ushered  into  another  element 
witii  powers  precisely  adjusted  to  its  new  stale,  and  useless  in  its 
-first  abode — like  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  hand,  the  foot  ;  that  i* 
should  assume  relations  to  hundreds,  and  thousands  cf  othet 
beings  at  first  unknown,  and  these,  too,  living  in  what  to  the 
embryo  must  be  esteemed  a  different  world;  that  it  should  be 
capable  of  traversing  seas,  of  measuring  the  distances  of  stars, 
of  guaging  the  dimensions  of  suns;  that  it  could  calculate  with 
unerring  certainty  the  conjunctions  and  oppositions,  the  transits 
and  altitudes  of  the  vast  wheeling  orbs  of  immensity,  is  as 
improbable  as  any  change,  which  man,  under  the  guidance  of 
revelation,  has  yet  expected  in  his  most  sanguine  moments. 
Yet  nothing  is  more  familiar  to  us.  So  the  analogy  might  be 
run  through  all  the  changes  which  animals  and  vegetables  exhi- 
bit. Nor  has  the  infidel  a  right  to  reject  the  revelations  of 
Christianity  respecting  a  future  state,  until  he  has  disposed 
of  facts  of  precisely  the  same  nature  with  which  our  world 
abounds. 

But  are  we  under  a  moral  government?  Admitting  the  pro- 
bability of  a  future  state,  is  the  plan  on  which  the  world  is 
actually  administered,  one  Avhidi  will  be  likely  to  affect  our 
condition  there?  Is  there  any  reason  to  believe,  from  the 
analogy  of  things,  that  the  affairs  of  the  universe  will  ever  in 
some  future  condition,  settle  down  into  permanency  and  order  ? 
That  this  is  the  doctrine  of  Christianity,  none  can  deny.  It  is  a 
matter  of  clear  revelation — indeed  it  is  the  entire  basis  and 
structure  of  the  scheme,  that  the  affairs  of  justice  and  of  law, 
are  under  suspense  ;  that  "judgment  now  lingereth  and  damna- 
tion slumbereth  ;"  that,  crime  is  for  the  present  dissociated  from 
wo.  for  a  specific  purpose,  viz.  that  mortals  may  repent  and  be 
forgiven  ;  and  that  there  will  come  a  day  when  the  native  indis- 
soluble connexion  between  sin  and  suffering  shall  be  restored, 
and  that  they  shall  then  travel  on  hand  in  hand  for  ever.  This 
is  the  essence  of  Christianity.  And  it  is  a  most  interesting 
inquiry,  whether  any  thing  like  this  can  be  found  in  the  actual 
government  of  the  world. 

Now  it  cannot  he  denied,  that  on  this  subject,  men  are  thrown 
into  a  most  remarkable — a  chaotic  mass  of  facts.  The  world  is 
so  full  of  irregularity — the  lives  of  wicked  men  are  apparently 
so  often  peaceful  and  triumphant — virtue  so  often  pines  neg- 
lected in  ihe  vale  of  obscurity,  or  weeps  and  groans  under  the 
iron  hand  of  the  oppressor,  that  it  appals  men  in  all  their 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XIX 

attempts  to  reduce  the  system  to  order.  Rewards  and  punish- 
ments, are  so  often  apparently  capricious,  that  there  is  presump- 
tive proof,  in  the  mind  of  the  infidel,  that  it  will  always  continue 
so  to  be.  And  yet  what  if,  Amidst  all  this  apparent  disorder 
there  should  he  found  the  elements  of  a  grand  and  glorious  sys- 
tem, soon  to  rise  on  its  ruins  ?  What  if,  amidst  all  the  triumphs 
of  vice,  there  should  still  be  found  evidence  to  prove  that  God 
works  by  an  unseen  power,  but  most  effectually,  in  sending 
judicial  inflictions  on  men  even  now?  And  what  if,  amidst 
these  ruins,  there  is  still  to  be  found  evidence,  that  God  regards 
virtue  even  here,  and  is  preparing  for  it  appropriate  rewards 
hereafter  ;  like  the  parts  of  a  beautiful  temple  strewed  and  scat- 
tered in  the  ruins  of  some  ancient  city,  but  still  if  again  placed 
together,  symmetrical,  harmonious,  and  grand? 

Christianity  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that  such  is  the  fact 
and  amidst  all  the  wreck  of  human  things,  we  can  still  discover 
certain  fixed  results  of  human  conduct.  The  consequences  of  an 
action  do  not  terminate  with  the  commission  of  the  act  itself, 
nor  with  the  immediate  effect  of  that  act  on  the  body.  They 
travel  over  into  future  results,  and  strike  on  some  other,  often 
some  distant  part  of  our  earthly  existence.  Frequently  the  true 
eflect  of  the  act  is  not  seen  except  beyond  some  result  that  may 
be  considered  as  the  accidental  one  ;  though  for  the  sake  of  that 
immediate  effect  the  act  may  have  been  performed.  This  is 
strikingly  the  case  in  the  worst  forms  of  vice.  The  immediate 
effect,  for  example,  of  intemperance,  is  a  certain  pleasurable 
sensation  for  the  sake  of  which  the  man  became  intoxicated. 
The  true  effect,  or  the  effect  as  part  of  moral  government,  travels 
beyond  that  temporary  delirium,  and  is  seen  in  the  loss  of  health, 
character,  and  peace, — perhaps  not  terminating  in  its  conse- 

3uences  during  the  whole  future  progress  of  the  victim.  So  the 
irect  result  of  profligacy  may  he  the  gratification  of  passion  ;— 
of  avarice,  the  pleasurable  indulgence  of  a  groveling  pro- 
pensity;—of  ambition,  the  glow  of  feeling  in  splendid  achieve- 
ments, or  the  grandeur  and  pomp  of  the  monarch,  or  the  war- 
rior;— of  dueling,  a  pleasurable  sensation  that  revenge  has  been 
taken  for  insult.  But  do  the  consequences  of  'aese  deeds  ter- 
minate here  ?  If  they  did,  we  should  doubt  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God.  But  in  regard  to  their  ultimate  effects,  the  uni- 
verse furnishes  but  one  lesson.  The  consequences  of  the.^e 
deeds  travel  over  in  advance  of  this  pleasure,  and  fix  themselves 
deep  beyond  human  power  to  eradicate  them,  in  the  property 
health,  reputation  or  peace  of  the  man  of  guilt ;— nay.  perhaps 
the  consequences  thicken  until  we  take  our  last  view  of  him,  as 
he  gasps  in  death,  and  all  that-we  know  of  him,  as  he  goes 
from  our  observation,  is  that  heavier  thunderbolts  are  seen  trem- 
bling in  the  hand  of  God,  and  pointing  their  vengeance  at  the 
bead  of  the  dying  man.  What  infidel  can  prove  that  some  ol 
the  results,  at  least,  of  that  crime,  may  not  travel  on  to  meet 
aim  in  his  future  being,  and  beset  his  goings  there  ? 
Further,  as  a  general  law  the  virtuous  are  prospered,  and  the 


XX  INTKOIHJCTOKY  ESSAT. 

wicked  punished.  Society  is  organized  fur  this.  Lavi  L  ar« 
made  for  this.  The  entire  community  throws  its  arms  around 
the  man  of  virtue;  and  in  like  mariner,  the  entire  community, 
by  its  laws,  gather  around  the  transgressor.  Let  a  man  attempt 
to  commit  a  crime,  and  before  the  act  is  committed,  he  may 
meet  with  fifty  evidences,  that  he  is  doing  that  which  will  in- 
volve him  in  ruin.  He  must  struggle  with  his  conscience.  He 
must  contend  with  what  he  knows  to  have  been  the  uniform 
judgment  of  men.  He  must  keep  himself  from  the  eye  of  jus- 
ice,  and  that  very  attempt  is  proof  to  him  that  there  is  a  rnora' 
government  He  must  overcome  all  the  proofs  which  have  been 
set  up,  that  men  approve  of  virtue.  He  must  shun  the  presence 
of  every  man,  for  from  that  moment,  every  member  of  the  com- 
munity, becomes,  of  course,  his  enemy.  He  must  assume  dis- 
guises to  secure  him  from  the  eye  of  justice.  He  must  work  his 
way  through  the  community  during  the  rest  of  his  life,  with  the 
continued  consciousness  of  crime  ;  eluding  by  arts  the  officers  of 
the  law,  fearful  of  detection  at  every  step,  and  never  certain  that 
at  some  unexpected  moment,  his  crime  may  not  be  revealed,  and 
the  heavy  arm  of  justice  fall  on  his  guilty  head.  Now  all  this 
proves  that  in  his  view  he  is  under  a  moral  government.  How 
knows  he,  that  the  same  system  of  things  may  not  meet  him 
hereafter;  and  that  in  some  future  world  the  hand  of  justice  may 
not  reach  him  ?  The  fact  is  sufficiently  universal  to  be  a  proper 
ground  of  action,  that  virtue  meets  with  its  appropriate  reward 
and  vice  is  appropriately  punished.  So  universal  is  this  fact, 
~  that  more  than  nine  tenths  of  all  the  world,  have  confidently 
acted  on  its  belief.  The  young  man  expects  that  industry  and 
sobriety  will  be  recompensed  in  the  healthfulness,  peace,  and 
honour  of  a  venerable  old  age.  The  votary  of  ambition  expects  to 
climb  the  steep,  "where  fame's  proud  temple  shines  afar,"  and 
to  enjoy  the  rewards  of  office  or  fame.  And  so  uniform  is  the 
administration  of  the  world  in  this  respect,  that  the  success  ol 
one  generation,  lays  the  ground  far  the  confident  anticipations  of 
another.  So  it  has  been  from  the  beginning  of  time,  and  so  it 
will  be  to  the  end  of  the  world.  We  ask  why  should  not  man, 
with  equal  reason,  suppose  his  conduct  now  may  affect  his  des- 
tiny, at  the  next  moment  or  the  next  year  beyond  his  death? 
Is  there  any  violation  of  reason  in  supposing  that  the  soul  may 
be  active  there,  and  meet  there  the  results  of  conduct  here  ?  Can 
it  be  proved  that  death  suspends,  or  annihilates  existence  ?  Un- 
less it  can,  the  man  who  acts  in  his  youm  with  reference  to  his 
happiness  at  eighty  years  of  age,  is  acting  most  unwisely  if  he 
does  not  extend  his  thoughts  to  the  hundredth,  or  the  thousandth 
year  of  his  being. 

What  if  it  should  be  found,  as  the  infide!  cannot  deny  it  maybe. 
that  deaih  suspends  not  existence^  so  much  as  one  niglit's  sleep  ? 
At  the  close  of  each  day,  we  see  the  powers  of  man  prostrate, 
Weakness  and  lassitude  come  over  all  the  frame.  A  torpoi 
elsewhere  unknown  in  the  history  of  animal  nature,  spreads 
through  all  the  faculties.  The  eyes  close*  the  ears  become  deaf 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XXI 

to  hearing,  the  palate  to  taste,  the  skin  to  touch,  the  nostrils  Ic 
smell,  all  the  {acuities  are  locked  in  entire  insensibility,  alike 
strangers  to  the  charms  of  music,  the  tones  of  friendship,  the 
beauties  of  creation,  the  luxury  of  the  banquet,  and  the  voice  of 
revelry.  The  last  indication  of  mind  to  appearance  is  gone,  or 
the  indications  of  its  existence  are  far  feebler  than  when  we  see 
man  die  in  the  full  exertion  of  his  mental  powers,  sympathizing 
n  feelings  of  friendship,  and  cheered  by  the  hopes  of  religion. 
Yet  God  passes  his  hand  over  the  frame  when  we  sleep,  and 
instinct  with  life,  again  we  rise  to  business,  to  pleasure,  or  to 
ambition.  But  what,  are  the  facts  which  meet  us,  as  the  result 
of  the  doings  of  yesterday  ?  Have  we  lost  our  hold  on  those 
actions?  The  man  of  industry  yesterday,  sees  to-day,  his  h'elds 
waving  in  the  sun,  rich  with  a  luxuriant  harvest.  The  pro- 
fessional man  of  business  finds  his  doors  crowded,  his  ways 
thronged,  and  multitudes  awaiting  his  aid  in  law,  in  medicine, 
or  in  the  arts.  The  man  of  virtue  yesterday,  reaps  the  rewards 
of  it  to-day,  in  the  respect  and  confidence  of  mankind;  and  in 
the  peace  of  an  approving  conscience,  and  the  smiles  of  God. 
The  man  of  intemperate  living  rises  to  nausea,  retching,  pain, 
and  wo.  Poverty,  this  morning  clothes  in  rags  the  body  of 
him  who  was  idle  yesterday;  and  disease  clings  to  the  goings, 
and  fixes  itself  in  the  blood  of  him,  who  was  dissipated.  Who 
can  tell  but  death  shall  be  less  a  suspension  of  existence  than 
this  night's  sleep?  Who  can  tell  but  that  the  consequences  of 
our  doings  here,  shall  travel  over  our  sleep  in  the  tomb,  and 
greet  us  in  our  awaking  in  some  new  abode  ?  Why  should 
they  not?  Why  should  God  appoint  a  laAv  so  wise,  and  so  uni- 
versal here,  that  is  to  fail  the  moment  we  pass  to  some  other  part 
of  our  being  ? 

Nor  are  the  results  of  crime  confined  to  the  place  where  the  act 
was  committed.  Sin,  in  youth,  may  lay  the  foundation  of  a 
disease,  that  shall  complete  its  work  on  the  other  side  of  the 
globe.  An  early  career  of  dissipation  in  America,  may  fix  in  the 
frame  the  elements  of  a  disorder,  that  shall  complete  its  work  in 
the  splendid  capital  of  the  French,  or  it  may  be  in  the  sands  of 
the  Equator,  or  the  snows  of  Siberia.  If  crime  may  thir"  ravel 
in  its  results  around  the  globe,  if  it  may  reach  out  its  •  .nering 
hand  over  seas,  and  mountains,  and  continents,  and  >eek  out  its 
fleeing  victim  in  the  solitary  waste,  or  in  the  dark  night,  we  see 
not  why  it  may  not  be  stretched  across  thegrr.ce,  and  meet  the 
victim  'there— at  least  we  think  the  analogy  should  make  the 
transgressor  tremble,  and  turn  pale  as  he  flies  to  eternity. 

But  it  is  still  objected  that  the  rewards  given  to  virtue,  and  the 
pain  inflicted  on  vice,  are  not  universal,  and  that  there  is  not, 
therefore,  the  proof  that  was  to  have  been  expected,  that  they 
will  he  iiereafter.  Here  we  remark  that  it  is  evidently  not  the 
design  of  religion  to  affirm  that  the  entire  system  can  be  seen  in 
our  world.  We  say  that  the  system  is  not  fully  developed,  and 
vhnt  there  is,  therefore,  presumptive  proof  that  there  is  another 
fctate  of  things.  Every  one  must  have  been  struck  with  the  fact, 


JTXii  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

that  human  affairs  are  cut  off  in  the  mid.st  of  their  way,  and  thsii 
completion  removed  to  some  other  world.  No  earthly  systerr. 
or  plan  has  been  carried  out  to  its  full  extent.  There  is  no  proof 
that  we  have  ever  seen  the  full  result  of  any  given  system  of 
conduct.  We  see  the  effect  of  vice  as  far  as  the  structure  of  the 
body  wii!  allow.  We  see  it  prostrate  the  frame,  produce  disease 
and  terminate  in  death.  We  see  the  effect  on  body  and  mind 
alike,  until  we  lose  our  sight  of  the  man  in  the  grave.  There 
our  tmse-vation  stops.  But  who  can  tell  what  the  effect  of 
intemperance,  for  example,  would  be  in  this  world,  if  the  body 
were  adjusted  to  bear  its  results  a  little  longer  ?  Who  can  cal 
.julatf  with  what  accelerated  progress  the  consequences  would 
thicken  beyond  the  time  when  we  now  cease  to  observe  them? 
And  who  can  affirm  that  the  same  results  may  not  await  the 
mind  hereafter?  Again  we  ask  the  infidel  why  they  should  not? 
He  is  bound  to  tell  us.  The  presumption  is  against  him. 

Besides,  the  effect  of  vice  is  often  arrested  in  .its  first  stage.  A 
young  man  suddenly  dies.  For  some  purpose,  unseen  to  human 
eyes,  the  individual  is  arrested,  and  the  effect  of  his  crimes  is 
removed  into  eternity.  Why  is  this  more  improbable  than  that 
the  irregularities  of  youth  should  run  on,  and  find  their  earthly 
completion  in  the  wretchedness  and  poverty  of  a  dishonoured  old 
age.  So  virtue  is  often  arrested.  The  young  man  of  promise, 
of  talent,  and  of  piety,  dies.  The  completion  of  the  scheme  is 
arrested.  The  rewards  are  dispensed  in  another  world.  So  says 
religion.  And  can  the  infidel  tell  us  why  they  should  not  be  dis- 
pensed there,  as  well  as  in  the  ripe  honours  of  virtuous  man 
hood  ?  This  is  a  question  which  infidelity  must  answer. 

The  same  remarks  are  as  applicable  to  communities  as  to  indi- 
viduals. It  is  to  be  remembered  here,  that  virtue  has  never  had 
a  full  and  impartial  trial.  The  proper  effect  of  virtue  here,  would 
be  seen  in  ^perfectly  pure  community.  Let  us  suppose  such  an 
organization  of  society.  Imagine  a  community  of  virtuous  men 
where  the  most  worthy  citizens  should  always  be  elected  to 
office,  where  affairs  should  be  suffered  to  flow  on  far  enough  to 
give  the  system  a  complete  trial ;  where  vice,  corruption,  flattery, 
bribes,  and  the  arts  of  office-seeking,  should  be  unknown;  where 
im  rierance,  gluttony,  lust,  and  dishonest  gains,  should  be  shut 
nut  LJ  'he  laws,  and  by  the  moral  sense  of  the  commonwealth; 
where  industry  and  sobriety  should  universally  prevail,  and  be 
honored,  i.  there  any  difficulty  in  seeing  that  if  this  system 
were  to  prevail  for  many  ages,  the  nation  would  be  signally  pros- 
perous, and  gain  a  wide  dominion?  And  suppose,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  community  made  up  on  the  model  of  the  New-Harmony 
plan,  the  asylum  of  the  idle,  of  the  unprincipled,  and  the  profli- 
gate. Suppose  that  the  men  of  the  greatest  physical  power,  and 
most  vice,  should  rule,  as  they  infallibly  would  do.  Suppose 
there  was  no  law,  but  the  single  precept  enjoining  universal 
.ndulgence;  and  suppose  that,  under  some  miraculous  and  terri- 
ble binding  together  by  divine  pressure,  this  community  should 
pe  kept  from  falling  to  pieces,  or  destroying  itself,  for  a  few  ages 


rXTRODVCTORY  ESSAY.  Mill 

is  there  any  difficulty  in  seeing  what  would  be  the  proper  effect 
of"  crime?  Indeed,  we  deem  it  happy  for  the  world  mat  one 
Robert  Owen  has  been  permitted  to  live  lo  make  the  experiment 
on  a  small  scale,  and  but  one,  lest  the  record  of  total  profligacy 
and  corruption  should  not  be  confined  to  the  singularly  named 
New-Harmony.  All  this  proves  there  is  something  either  in  the 
franirt-work  of  society  itself,  or  in  the  agency  of  some  (>reat 
Being  presiding  over  human  things,  that  smiles  on  virtue,  and 
frowns  on  vice.  In  other  words,  there  is  a  moral  government. 

It  is  further  to  be  remarked  that,  as  far  as  the  experiment  lias 
been  suffered  to  go  on  in  the  world,  it  has  been  attended  with  a 
uniform  result.  Nations  are  suffered  to  advance  in  wickedness, 
until  they  reach  the  point,  in  the  universal  constitution  of  things, 
that  is  attended  with  self-destruction.  So  fell  Gomorrah,  Baby- 
lon, Athens,  Rome,  expiring  just  as  the  drunkard  does — by  excess 
of  crime,  or  by  enervating  their  strength  in  luxury  and  vice. 
The  body  politic,  enfeebled  by  corruption,  is  not  able  to  sustain 
the  incumbent  load,  and  sinks,  like  the  human  frame,  in  rum. 
So  has  perished  every  nation,  from  the  vast  dominions  of  Alex- 
ander the  Macedonian,  to  the  mighty  empire  of  Napoleon,  that 
has  been  reared  in  lands  wet  with  the  blood  of  the  sla;a,  and 
incumbent  on  the  pressed  and  manacled  liberties  of  man.  In 
national,  as  well  as  in  private  affairs,  the  powers  of  domg  evil 
soon  exhaust  themselves.  The  frame  in  which  they  art  is  not 
equal  to  the  mighty  pressure,  and  the  nation  or  the  individual 
sinks  to  ruin.  Like  some  tremendous  engine,  of  many  wheels 
and  complicated  machinery,  when  the  balance  is  removed,  and 
it  is  suffered  to  waste  its  powers  in  self-propulsion,  wttiiout 
checks  or  guides,  the  tremendous  energy  works  its  own  ruin, 
rends  the  machine  in  pieces,  and  scatters  its  rolling  and  rlying 
wheels  in  a  thousand  directions.  Such  is  the  frame  of  society, 
and  such  the  frame  of  an  individual.  So  we  expect,  if  (Jtid  gave 
up  the  world  to  unrestrained  evil  it  would  accomplish  'its  own 
perdition.  We  think  we  see  in  every  human  frame,  and  in  the 
mingled  and  clashing  powers  of  every  society,  the  elements  of 
ruin,  and  all  that  is  necessary  to  secure  that  ruin  is  to  remove 
the  pressure  of  the  hand  that  now  restrains  the  wild  and  terrific 
powers,  and  saves  the  world  from  self-destruction.  So  if  virtue 
had  a  fair  trial,  we  apprehend  it  would  be  as  complet?  in  its 
results.  We  expect,  in  heaven,  it  will  secure  its  own  rewu-ds — 
like  the  machine  which  we  have  supposed — always  harmonious 
in  its  movements.  So  in  hell,  we  expect  there  will  be  the  ele- 
ments of  universal  misrule — and  that  all  the  foreign  force  that 
will  be  necessary  to  secure  eternal  misery,  will  be  Almighty 
power  to  preserve  the  terrible  powers  in  unrestrained  being,  and 
to  press  them  into  the  same  mighty  prison-house — just  like  some 
adamantine  enclosure  that  should  keep  the  engine  together  aud 
fix  the  locality  of  its  tremendous  operations. 

Long  ago  it  had  passed  into  a  proverb,  that  "  murder  will  out.' 
This  is  just  an  illustration  of  xvhat  we  are  supposing.  Let  a 
murderer  live  long  enough,  and  such  is  the  organization  of 


JCX1V  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 


society,  that  vengeance  will  find  him  out.  Such,  we  suppose, 
would  he  the  case  in  regard  to  all  crime,  if  sufficient  permanency 
were  given  to  the  affairs  of  men,  and  if  things  were  not  arrested 
in  ihe  midst  of  their  way.  Results  in  eternity,  we  suppose,  are 
but  the  transfer  lo  another  state  of  results  which  would  lake  place 
here,  if  the  guilty  were  not  removed.  We  ask  the  infidel, — we 
ask  the  Uriiversalist.  why  this  state  of  things  should  be  arrest  ml 
by  so  unimportant  a  circumstance  as  death  !  Here  is  a  unifcrm 
system  of  things — uniform  as  far  as  the  eve  can  run  it  backward 
into  past  generations,- -uniform,  so  as  to  become  the  foundation 
of  laws  ;md  of  the  entire  conduct  of  the.  world. — ai  d  uniform,  so 
far  as  the  eye  can  trace  the  results  of  conduct  forward  in  all  the 
landmarks  set  up  along  our  future  course.  Unless  God  chance, 
and  the  affairs  of  other  worlds  are  administered  on  principles 
different  (rom  ours,  it  must  be  that  the  system  will  receive  us 
appropriate  termination  there.  It  belongs  to  the  infidel  and  the 
Universalist  to  prove,  that  the  affairs  of  the  universe  come  to  a 
solemn  pause  at  death  ;  that  we  are  ushered  into  a  world  of  dif- 
ferent laws,  and  different  principles  of  government, — that  we 
pass  under  a  new  sceptre,  a  sceptre  too.  not  of  justice,  hut  of  dis- 
order, misrule,  and  the  arrest  of  all  that  God  has  begun  in  his 
administration  ; — that  the  results  of  conduct,  manifestly  hut  just 
commenced  here,  are  finally  arrested  by  some  strange  and 
unknown  principle  at  our  death  ; — and  that  we  are  to  pass  to  a 
world  of  which  we  know  nothing,  and  in  which  \ve  have  no 
means  of  conjecturing  what  will  be  the  treatment  which  crime 
and  virtue  will  receive.  We  ask  them,  can  they  demonstrate  this 
strange  theory  ?  Are  men  willing  to  risk  their  eternal  welfare 
on  the  presumption.,  that  God  will  be  a  different  being  therefrom 
what  he  is  here,  and  that  the  conduct  which  meets  with  wo  here,  will 
there  meet  with  bliss  ?  Why  not  rather  suppose, — as  Christianity 
does — according  to  all  the  analogy  of  things,  that  the  same 
Almijrhty  hand  shnil  be  stretched  across  all  worlds  alike,  and  tha' 
the  holts  which  vibrate  in  his  hand  now,  and  point  their  thunders 
nt  the  head  of  the  guilty,  shall  fall  with  tremendous  weight  inert-, 
and  close,  in  eternal  life  and  death,  the  scenes  begun  on  earth  ? 
\Ve  know  of  no  men  who  are  acting  under  so  fearful  probabili- 
ties against  their  views,  as  those  who  derU*  the  doctrine  of  future 
punishment.  Here  is  a  long  array  of  uniform  facts,  all,  as  we 
understand  them,  founded  on  the  presumption  that  the  scheme 
of  the  infidel  cannot  be  true.  The  system  is  continued  through 
all  the  revolutions  to  which  men  are  subject.  Conduct,  in  its 
results,  travels  over  all  the  interruptions  of  sleep,  sickness, 
absence,  delirium,  that  man  meets  with,  and  passes  on  from  age 
to  a<,-e. 

The  conduct  of  yesterday  terminates  in  results  to-day;  that  of 
jrouth  extends  into  old  age;  that  of  health  reaches  even  bei/ond  a 
season  of  sickness;  that  of  sanity,  beyond  a  state  of  delirium. 
Crime  here  meets  its  punishment,  it  may  be  after  we  have 
crossed  oceans,  and  snows,  and  sands,  in  some  other  part  of  the 
lobe.  Far  from  country  and  home,  in  lauds  of  strangers  where 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XXV 

RO  eye  may  recognise  or  pity  us,  but  that  of  the  unseen  witness 
i>f  our  actions,  if  follows  us  in  remorse  of  conscience,  or  in  the 
mdgments  of  the  storm,  the  siroc,  or  the  ocean.  We  are  amazed 
that  it  should  be  thought  that"  death  will  arrest  this  course  of 
things,  and  that  crossing  that  narrow  vale,  will  do  for  us  what 
the  passage  from  yesterday  to  to-day,  from  youth  to  age,  from 
the  land  of  our  birth  to  the  land  of  strangers  and  of  solitudes,  can, 
never  do.  Guilty  man  carries  the  elements  of  his  own  perdition, 
within  him,  and  it  matters  little  whether  he  be  in  society  or  in 
solitude,  in  this  world  or  the  next — the  inward  fires  will  burn, 
and  the  sea  and  the  dry  land,  and  the  burning  clirnes  of  hell,  will 
send  forth  their  curses  to  greet  the  wretched  being,  who  has 
dared  to  violate  the  laws  of  the  unseen  God,  and  to  "hail"  him 
as  the  "  new  possessor"  of  the  "  profoundest  helL" 

But  the  infidel  still  objects  that  all  this  is  mere  probability, 
and  that  in  concerns  so  vast,  it  is  unreasonable  to  act  without 
demonstration.  We  reply,  that  in  few  of  the  concerns  of  life  do 
men  act  from  demonstration.  The  farmer  sows  with  the  proba- 
bility, only,  that  he  will  reap.  The  scholar  toils  with  the  proba- 
bility, often  a  slender  one,  that  his  life  will  be  prolonged,  and 
success  crown  his  labours  in  subsequent  life.  The  merchant 
commits  his*treasures  to  the  ocean,  embarks  perhaps  all  he  has 
on  the  bosom  of  the  deep,  under  the  probability  that  propitious 
gales  will  waft  the  riches  of  the  Indies  into  port.  Under  this 
probability,  and  this  only,  the  ambitious  man  pants  for  honour, 
the.  votary  of  pleasure  presses  to  the  scene  of  dissipation,  the 
youth,  the  virgin,  the  man  of  middle  life,  and  he  of  hoary  hairs, 
alike  crowd  round  the  scenes  of  honour,  of  vanity,  and  of  gain. 
Nay,  more,  some  of  the  noblest  qualities  of  the  soul  are  brought 
forth  only  on  the  strength  of  probabilities  that  appear  slight  to 
Jess  daring  spirits.  In  the  eye  of  his  countrymen,  few  things 
were  more  improbable  than  that  Columbus  would  survive  the 
clangers  of  the  deep,  and  land  on  the  shores  of  a  new  hemisphere. 
Nothing  appeared  more  absurd  than  his  reasonings — nothing 
more  chimerical  than  his  plans.  Yet  under  the  pressure  of  proof 
that  satisfied  his  own  mind,  he  braved  the  dangers  of  an  untra- 
versed  ocean,  and  bent  his  course  to  regions  Avhose  existence 
was  as  far  from  the  belief  of  the  old  world,  as  that  of  heaven  is 
from  the  faith  of  the  infidel.  Nor  could  the  unbelieving  Spaniard 
deny,  that  under  the  pressure  of  the  probability  of  the  existence 
of  a  western  continent,  some  of  the  highest  qualities  of  mind 
that  the  earth  has  seen,  were  exhibited  by  the  Genoese  navigator 
— just  as  the  infidel  must  admit  that  some  of  the  most  firm  and 
noble  expressions  of  soul  have  come  from  the  enterprise  of  gain- 
ing a  heaven  and  a  home,  beyond  the  stormy  and  untravelled 
ocean,  on  which  the  Christian" launches  his  bark  in  discovery  of 
a  new  world.  We  might  add  also  here,  the  names  of  Bruce,  of 
Wallace,  of  Tell,  of  Washington.  We  might  remark  how  they 
conmenced  the  great  enterprises  whose  triumphant  completion 
has  given  immortality  to  their  names,  under  the  power  of  a 
probability  that  their  efforts  would  be  successful.  We  mighf. 
2 


*XV1  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT. 

remark  how  many  more  clouds  of  doubr  and  obscurity  clustered 
around  their  enterprises,  than  have  ever  darkened  the  Christian  s 
path  to  heavun,  and  how  the  grandest  displays  of  patriotism  and 
prowess  that  the  world  has  known,  have  grown  out  of  the 
hazardous  design  of  rescuing  Scotland,  Switzerland  and  America 
from  slavery.  But  we  shall  only  observe  that  there  was  jusf 
enough  probability  of  success  in  these  cases  to  try  these  men's 
souls — just  as  there  is  probability  enough  of  heaven  and  hfll,  to 
try  the  souls  of  infidels  and  of  Christians,  to  bring  out  their  true 
character,  and  answer  the  great  ends  of  moral  government. 

But  here  the  infidel  acts  on  the  very  principle  which  he  con- 
demns. He  has  not  demonstrated  that  his  system  is  true.  From 
the  nature  of  the  system  he  cannot  do  i(.  He  acts  then,  on  a 
probability  that  his  system  may  prove  to  be  true.  And  were  the 
subject  one  less  serious  than  eternity,  '  might  be  amusing  to 
look  at  the  nature  of  these  probabilities.  His  system  assumes 
it  as  probable  that  men  will  not  be  rewarded  according  to  their 
deeds ;  that  Christianity  will  turn  out  to  be  false  ;  that  it  will 
appear  that  no  such  being  as  Jesus  lived,  or  that  it  will  yet  be 
proved  that  he  was  an  impostor ;  that  twelve  men  were  deceived 
in  so  plain  a  case  as  that  which  related  to  the  dealh  and  resur- 
rection of  an  intimate  friend;  that  they  conspired  to  impose  on 
men  without  reward,  contrary  to  all  the  acknowledged  princi- 
ples of  human  action,  and  when  they  could  reap  nothing  for 
their  imposture  but  stripes,  contempt,  and  death  ;  that  religion 
did  not  early  spread  over  the  Roman  empire;  that  the  facts  of 
the  New  Testament  are  falsehood,  and  of  course  that  all  the 
cotemporaneous  confirmations  of  these  facts  collected  by  the 
indefatigable  Lardner,  were  false  also:  that  the  Jews  occupy 
their  place  in  the  nations  by  chance,  and  exist  in  a  manner  con- 
traiy  to  that  of  al^  other  people,  without  reason  ;  that  al!  the  pre- 
dictions of  their  dispersion,  of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  of  the 
overthrow  of  Babylon  and^Jerusalem  and  Tyre  are  conjectures, 
in  which  men,  very  barbarous  men,  conjectured  exactly  rujhi, 
while  thousands  of  the  predictions  of  heathen  oracles  and  states- 
m  TI  have  failed;  that  this  singular  fact  should  have  happened, 
lint  the  most  barbarous  people  should  give  to  mankind  the 
onlv  intelligible  notices  of  God,  and  that  a  dozen  Galilean  peas- 
ant should  have  devised  a  scheme  of  imposture  to  overthrow  all 
the  true,  and  all  the  false  systems  of  religion  in  the  world.  The 
infidel  moreover  deems  it  probable  that  there  is  no  God  ;  or  that 
(ii;ath  is  an  eternal  sleep;  or  that  we  have  no  souls;  cr  that 
man  is  but  an  improved  and  educated  ape,  or  that  all  virtue  is 
v.iin,  that  all  vice  stands  on  the  same  level,  and  may  be  com- 
mitted at  any  man's  pleasure;  or  that  man's  wisdom  is  to  dis- 
regard the  future,  and  live  to  eat  and  drink  and  die ;  and  all  this 
too,  when  his  conscience  tells  him  there  is  a  God,  when  he  docs 
act  for  the  future,  and  expects  happiness  or  wo  as  the  reward  c>f 
virtue  or  vice;  wheu  he  is  palsied,  as  he  iooks  at  the  grave,  with 
f?ars  rf  what  is  beyond,  and  turns  pale  in  solitude  as  he  looks. 
nnnar<l  to  the  bar  =?  God.  Now  we  hazard  nothing  in  saying, 


INTRODUCTORY   ESSAY.  XXVil 

that  the  man  who  is  compelled  to  act  as  the  infidel  is,  who  has 
all  these  probabilities  to  cheer  him  with  the  belief  that  infidelity 
is  true,  and  this  when  it  has  no  system  to  recommend  as  truth, 
and  when  it  stands  opposed  to  all  the  analogy  of  things,  is 
engaged  in  a  most  singular  employment,  Avhen  he  denounces 
men  lor  acting  on  the  probability  that  there  is  a  heaven,  a  God, 
a  Saviour,  and  a  hell.  It  seems  to  us  that  there  is  nothing  more 
at  war  with  all  the  noble  and  pure  feelings  of  the  soul,  than  this 
attempt  to  "swing  man  from  his  moorings,"  and  send  him  on 
wild  and  tumultuous  seas,  with  only  the  infidel's  probability  that 
he  will  ever  reach  a  haven  of  rest.  It  is  launching  into  an 
ocean,  without  a  belief  that  there  is  an  ocean  ;  and  weathering 
storms,  without  professing  to  believe  that  there  may  be  storms ; 
and  seeking  a  port  of  peace,  without  believing  that  there  is  such 
a  port,  and  acting  daily  with  reference  to  the  future,  at  the  same 
time  that  all  is  pronounced  an  absurdity.  And  when  we  see  all 
this,  we  ask  instinctively,  can  this  be  man'!  Or  is  this  being 
right  after  all,  in  the  belief  that  he  is  only  a  semi-barbarous  ape, 
or  a  half-reclaimed  man  of  the  woods  ? 

But  we  are  gravely  told,  and  with  an  air  of  great  seeming 
wisdom,  that  all  presumption  and  experience  are  against  the 
miraculous  facts  in  the  New  Testament.  And  it  was,  for  some 
time,  deemed  proof  of  singular  philosophical  sagacity  in  Hume, 
that  he  made  the  discovery,  and  put  it  on  record  to  enlighten 
mankind.  For  our  part,  we  think  far  more  attention  was 
bestowed  on  this  sophistry  than  was  required ;  and  but  for  the 
show  of  confident  Avisdom  with  which  it  was  put  forth,  we  think 
the  argument  of  Campbell  might  have  been  spared.  It  might 
safely  be  admitted,  we  suppose,  that  all  presumption  and  experi- 
ence, were  against  miracles  before  they  were  wrought, — and  this 
is  no  more  than  saying  that  they  were  not  wrought  before  they 
Avere.  The  plain  matter  of  fact,  apart  from  all  laboured  meta- 
physics, is,  that  there  is  a  presumption  against  most  facts  until 
they  actually  take  place,  because  till  that  time  all  experience 
Avas  against  them.  Thus  there  \vere  many  presumptions  against 
the  existence  of  such  a  man  as  Julius  Csesar.  No  man  Avoukl 
have  ventured  to  predict  that  there  would  be  such  a  man.  There 
Avere  a  thousand  probabilites  that  a  man  of  that  name  Avould  not 
live — as  many  that  he  would  not  cross  the  Rubicon — as  many  that 
he  would  not  enslave  his  country— and  as  many  that  he  Avould 
not  be  slain  by  the  hand  of  such  a  man  as  Brutus, — and  all  this 
Avas  contrary  to  experience.  So  there  Avere  innumerable  im- 
probabilities, in  regard  to  the  late  Emperor  of  Fvance.  It  was 
once  contemplated,  we  are  told,  by  a  living  poet  Avho  aftenvards 
wrote  his  life  in  a  different,  place,  to  produce  a  biography 
grounded  on  the  impr  ibabilities  of  his  conduct,  and  showing  how, 
in  fact,  all  those  improbabilities  disappeared  in  the  actual  result. 
The  Avorld  stood  in  amazement  indeed  for  a  few  years  at  the 
singular  grandeur  of  his  movements.  Men  saw  him  ride,  as 
Jie  spirit  of  the  storm,  on  the  whirlwind  of  the  revolution  ;  and 
like  the  spirit  of  the  tempest,  amazed  and  trembling  nations 


IXVlll  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

Knew  not  where  his  power  would  strike,  or  what  city  or  state  il 
would  next  sweep  into  ruin.  But  the  world  has  since  become 
familiar  with  the  spectacle, — men  have  seen  that  he  was 
naturally  engendered  by  the  turbid  elements — that  he  was  the 
proper  creation  of  the  revolution — and  that  if  he  had  not  lived 
some  other  master  spirit  like  him  would  have  seized  the  direction 
of  the  tempest,  and  poured  its  desolations  on  bleeding  anc 
trembling  Europe.  So  any  great  discovery  in  science  or  art,  ia 
previously  improbable  and  contrary  to  experience.  We  have 
ofteii  amused  ourselves  with  contemplating  -what  would  have 
been  the  effect  on  the  mind  of  Archimedes,  had  he  been  told  of 
the  power  of  one  of  the  most  common  elements, — an  element 
which  men  who  see  boiling  water  must  always  see — its  mighty 
energy  in  draining  deep  pits  in  the  earth,  in  raising  vast  rocks 
of  granite,  in  propelling  vessels  with  a  rapidity  and  beauty  of 
which  the  ancients  knew  nothing,  and  in  driving  a  thousand 
Avheels  in  the  minutest  and  most  delicate  works  of  art.  To  the 
ancient  world  all  this  was  contrary  to  experience,  and  all  pre- 
sumption was  against  it, — as  improbable  certainly  as  that  God 
should  have  power  to  raise  the  dead ;  and  we  doubt  whether  any 
evidence  of  divine  revelation  would  have  convinced  mankind 
three  thousand  years  ago,  without  the  actual  experiment,  of 
what  the  school-boy  may  now  know  as  a  matter  of  sober  an 
daily  occurrence,  in  the  affairs  of  the  world.  So  not  long  since,  the 
Copernican  system  of  astronomy  was  so  improbable,  that  for 
maintaining  it,  Galileo  endured  the  pains  of  the  dungeon.  All 
presumption  and  all  experience  it  was  thought  were  against  it. 
Yet,  by  the  discoveries  of  Newton,  it  has  been  made,  to  the 
great  mass  of  mankind,  devoid  of  all  its  improbabilities,  and 
children  acquiesce  in  its  reasonableness.  So  the  oriental  king 
could  not  be  persuaded  that  water  could  ever  become  hard.  It 
was  full  of  improbabilities,  and  contrary  to  all  experience.  The 
plain  matter  of  fact,  is,  that  in  regard  to  all  events  in  history, 
and  all  discoveries  in  science,  and  inventions  in  the  mechanic 
arts,  there  may  be  said  to  be  a  presumption  against  their  exist- 
ence, just  as  there  was  in  regard  to  miracles  ;  and  they  are  con- 
trary to  all  experience,  until  discovered,  just  as  miracles  are 
until  performed.  And  if  this  be  all  that  infidelity  has  to  affirm  in 
the  boasted  argument  of  Hume,  it  seems  to  be  ushering  into  the 
world,  with  very  unnecessary  pomp,  a  very  plain  truism, — that 
a  new  fact  in  the  world  is  contrary  to  all  experience,  and  this  is 
tha  same  as  saying  that  a  thing  is  contrary  to  experience  until 
it  actually  is  experienced. 

We  have  another  remark  to  make  on  this  subject.  It  relates 
to  the  ease  with  which  the  improbabilities  of  a  case  may  be  over- 
come by  testimony.  We  doubt  not  that  the  wonders  of  the 
steam  power  may  be  now  credited  by  all  mankind,  and  we  who 
have  seen  its  application  in  so  many  forms,  easily  believe  thai 
it  may  accomplish  similar  wonders  in  combinations  which  the 
world  has  not  yet  witnessed.  The  incredulity  of  the  age  of 
Galileo  on  the  subject  of  astronomy,  has  been  overcome  among 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XXIX 

millions  who  cannot  trace  the  demonstrations  of  Newton,  and 
who  perhaps  have  never  heard  his  name.  It  is  by  testimony  only 
that  all  this  is  done ;  and  on  the  strength  of  this  testimony,  man 
will  hazard  any  worldly  interest.  He  will  circumnavigate  the 
globe,  not  at  all  deterred  by  the  fear  that  he  may  find  in  distant 
seas  or  lands,  different  laws  from  which  the  Copernican  system 
supposes.  We  do  not  see  why,  in  like  manner,  the  improbabili- 
ties of  religion  may  not  vanish  before  testimony ;  and  its  high 
mysteries  in  some  advanced  period  of  our  existence,  become  as 
familiar  to  us,  as -the  common  facts  which  are  now  the  subjects 
of  our  daily  observation.  Nor  can  we  see  why  the  antecedent 
difficulties  of  religion  may  not  as  easily  be  removed  by  compe- 
tent proof,  as  those  which  appalled  the  minds  of  men  in  the  gran- 
deur of  the  astronomical  system,  or  the  mighty  power  of  the  arts. 
We  wish  here  briefly  to  notice  another  difficulty  of  infidelity. 
It  is,  that  it  is  altogether  improbable  and  against  the  analogy  of 
things,  that  the  Son  of  God,  the  equal  of  the  Father  of  the  uni- 
verse, should  stoop  to  the  humiliating  scenes  of  the  mediation, — 
should  consent  to  be  cursed,  reviled,  buffetted,  and  put  to  death. 
We  answer,  men  are  very  incompetent  judges  of  what  a  Divine 
Being  may  be  willing  to  endure.  Who  would  suppose,  before- 
hand, that  God  would  submit  to  blasphemy  and  rebuke  ?  Yet 
what  being  has  been  ever  more  calumniated  ?  Who  has  been 
the  object  of  more  scorn  ?  What  is  the  daily  offering  that  goes 
up  from  the  wide  world  to  the  Maker  of  all  worlds  ?  Not  a 
nation  that  does  not  daily  send  up  a  dense  cloud  of  obscenity  and 
profaneness  as  their  offering. 

The  dwellers  in  the  vales  and  on  the  rocks 
Shout  to  each  other ;  and  the  mountain  tops 
'  From  distant  mountains  catch  the  flying'  curse, 
Till  nation  after  nation  taught  the  strain, 
'  Earth  rolls  the  awful  malediction  round.'  " 

Scarce  a  corner  of  the  street  can  be  turned,  but  our  ears  are 
saluted  with  the  sound  of  blasphemy — curses  poured  on  Jeho- 
vah, on  his  Son,  on  his  Spirit,  on  his  creatures,  on  the  material 
universe,  on  his  law.  To  our  minds,  it  is  no  more  strange  that 
the  Son  of  God  should  bear  reproach,  and  pain,  with  patience  for 
thirty  years,  than  that  the  God  of  creation  should  bear  all  this  from 
age  to  age,  and  as  an  offering  from  the  wide  world.  We  have 
only  to  reflect  on  what  the  blasphemer  would  do  if  God  should  be 
imbodied,  and  reveal  himself  to  the  eye  in  a  form  so  that  human 
hands  might  reach  him  with  nails,  and  spears,  and  mock  dia- 
dems, to  see  an  illustration  of  what  they  actually  did  do,  when 
hi;  Son  put  himself  in  the  power  of  blasphemers,  and  refused 
not  to  die.  The  history  of  the  blasphemer  has  shown  that  if  he 
nad  the  power,  long  ago  the  last  gem  in  the  Creator's  crown 
would  have  been  plucked  away ;  his  throne  would  have  crum- 
oled  beneath  him  ;  his  sceptre  been  wrested  from  his  hand  ;  and 
the  God  of  creation,  like  his  Son  in  redemption,  would  have 
been  suspended  on  a  "  great  Central"  cross '  When  we  see 
3* 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 


the  patience  of  God  towards  blasphemers,  our  minds  are  nevet 
staggered  by  any  condescension  in  the  Redeemer.  We  see 
something  in  the  analogy,  so  unlike  what  we  see  among  men, 
that  we  are  strongly  confirmed  in  the  belief  that  they  are  a  part 
of  one  great  system  of  things. 

We  have  thus  presented  a  specimen  of  the  nature  of  the  argu- 
ment from  analogy.  Our  design  has  been  to  excite  to  inquiry, 
and  to  lead  our  readers  to  cultivate  a  practical  acquaintance 
with  this  great  work.  We  deem  it  a  work  of  principles  in  the- 
ology— a  work  to  be  appreciated  only  by  those  who  think  for 
themselves,  and  who  are  willing  to  be  at  the  trouble  of  carrying 
oat  these  materials  for  thought  into  a  daily  practical  application 
to  the  thousand  difficulties,  which  beset  the  path  of  Christians  in 
their  own  private  reflections,  in  the  facts  which  they  encounter, 
and  in  the  inuendoes,  jibes,  and  blasphemies  of  infidels.  We 
know,  indeed,  that  the  argument  is  calculated  to  silence  rather 
than  to  convince.  In  our  view,  this  is  what,  on  this  subject,  is 
principally  needed.  The  question  in  our  minds  is  rather,  whe- 
ther we  may  believe  there  is  a  future  state,  than  whether  we 
must  believe  it.  Sufficient  for  mortals,  we  think  is  it,  in  their 
wanderings,  their  crimes,  and  their  sorrows,  if  they  may  believe 
there  is  a  place  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the 
weary  may  be  for  ever  at  rest;  and  if  the  thousand  shades  of 
doubt  on  that  subject  which  thicken  on  the  path  of  man,  and 
which  assume  a  deeper  hue  by  infidel  arts,  may  be  removed. 
We  ask  only  the  privilege  of  believing  that  there  is  a  world  of 
purity ;  that  the  troubled  elements  of  our  chaotic  abode  may 
settle  down  into  rest;  and  that  from  the  heavings  of  this 
moving  sea  there  may  arise  a  fair  moral  system  complete  in  all 
its  parts,  where  God  shall  be  all  in  all,  and  where  all  creatures 
may  admire  the  beauty  of  his  moral  character,  and  the  gran- 
deur of  his  sovereign  control.  We  watch  the  progress  of  this 
system,  much  as  we  may  suppose  a  spectator  would  have 
watched  the  process  of  the  first  creation.  At  first  this  now 
solid  globe  was  a  wild  chaotic  mass.  Darkness  and  commotion 
were  there.  There  was  a  vast  heaving  deep — a  boundless  corn- 
mingling  of  elements — a  dismal  terrific  wild.  Who,  in  looking 
on  that  moving  mass,  would  have  found  evidence  that  the 
beauty  of  Eden  would  so  soon  start  up  on  its  surface,  and  the  fair 
proportions  of  our  hills,  and  vales,  and  streams,  would  rise  to 
give  support  to  millions  of  animated  and  happy  beings.  And 
with  what  intensity  would  the  observer  behold  the  light  burst- 
ing on  chaos — the  rush  of  waters  to  their  deep  caverns — the 
uprising  of  the  hills  clothed  with  verdure,  inviting  to  life  and 
felicity.  With  what  beauty  would  appear  the  millions  sporting 
with  new-created  life  in  their  proper  elements.  Myriads  in  the 
heaving  ocean  and  gushing  streams — myriads  melodious  in  the 
groves — myriads  joyful  on  a  thousand  hills,  and  in  a  thousand 
vales.  How  grand  the  completion  of  the  system — man  lord  of 
all,  clothe d  with  power  over  the  bupsting  millions,  the  priesl  of 
this  new  creation,  rendering  homage  to  its  Great  Sovereign 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XXx 

Lord,  and  "  extolling  him  first,  him  midst,  and  him  without  end." 
Like  beauty  and  grandeur,  we  expect  will  come  oat  of  this 
deranged  moral  system.  Our  eve  loves  to  trace  its  develope- 
nient.  With  tears  we  look  back  on  "Paradise  Lost" — with 
exultation  we  trace  the  unfolding  elements  of  a  process  that 
shall  soon  exhibit  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  "  Paradise 
repiined." 

There  is  still  a  most  important  part  of  the  subject  untouched-- 
the  analogy  of  the  Christian  scheme,  as  we  understand  it,  to  the 
cc'urse  of  nature,  and  the  fact  that  all  the  objections  urged  against 
Calvinism  lie  against  the  actual  order  of  events.  This  part  of  the 
arsument,  Butler  has  not  touched.  To  this,  we  propose  now  to 
call  the  attention  of  our  readers — in  some  respects  the  most  inte- 
resting and  important  part  of  "the  analogy  of  religion,  natural 
and  revealed,  to  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature." 

Tims  far  we  have  had  our  eye  fixed  on  the  infidel.  We  wish 
now  to  direct  our  attention  to  the  opponents  of  what  we  consider 
the  Christian  scheme,  and  inquire  whether  Butler  has  not  fur- 
bished us  materials  to  annihilate  every  objection  against  what 
are  called  the  doctrines  of  grace.  We  say  materials,  far  we  are 
well  aware  that  he  did  not  complete  the  argument.  We  suppose 
that,  had  his  object  been  to  carry  it  to  its  utmost  extent,  there 
were  two  important  causes  which  would  have  arrested  its  pro- 
gress where  it  actually  has  stopped.  The  first  is  found  in  But- 
ler's own  views  of  the  Christian  scheme.  We  are  not  calling  in 
question  his  piety,  but  we  have  not  seen  evidence  that  he  had 
himself  fully  embraced  the  evangelical  system,  and  applied  his 
argument  to  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  We  fear  that 
he  stopped  short  of  such  a  result  in  his  own  feelings,  and  that  this 
may  have  been  the  reason  why  that  system  had  not  a  more  pro- 
minent place  in  his  work.  Still,  we  would  not  apply  the  lan- 
guage of  severe  criticism  to  this  deficiency  in  the  Analogy.  We 
know  his  design.  It  was  to  meet  the  infidelity  of  an  age  of 
peculiar  thoughtlessness  and  vice.  He  did  it.  He  reared  an 
argument  which  infidels  have  thought  it  most  prudent  to  lei 
alone.  They  have  made  new  attacks  in  other  modes.  Driven 
from  this  field,  they  have  yielded  it  into  the  hands  of  Butler, — 
and  their  wisdom  has  consisted  in  withdrawing  as  silently  as 
possible  from  the  field,  and  losing  the  recollection  both  of  the  din 
of  conflict  and  the  shame  of  defeat.  It  has  always  been  one  of 
•  he  arts  of  infidelity  and  error,  to  forget  the  scene  of  previous 
confict  and  overthrow.  Singular  adroitness  is  manifested  in 
keej  ing  from  the  public  eye  the  fact  and  the  monuments  of  such 
disa  itrous  encounters.  Thus  Butler  stands  as  grand  and  solitary 
as  a  pyramid  of  Egypt,  and  we  might  add,  nearly  as  much  for- 
saken by  those  for  whose  benefit  he  wrote.  And  thus  Edwards 
on  the  Will  is  conveniently  forgotten  by  hosts  of  Arminians,  who 
continue  to  urge  their  arguments  with  as  much  self-gratulation, 
as  though  previous  hosts  of  Arminians  had  never  been  prostrated 
:>y  his  mighty  ?rm.  Could  we  awaken  the  unpleasant  reminis- 
cence in  the  infidels  of  our  age,  that  there  was  such  a  man  as 


JXXl  UJTRDDt'CTOKY  ESSAT. 

Butler,  and  in  the  opposers  of  the  doctrines  of  grace,  that  tliatc 
is  extant  in  the  English  language  such  a  book,  as  "  A  careful 
inquiry  into  the  modern  prevailing  notions  on  the  freedom  of  the 
Will,"  \ve  should  do  more,  perhaps,  than  by  any  one  means  to 
disturb  the  equanimity  of  multitudes,  who  live  only  to  deal  out 
dogmas  as  if  they  had  never  been  confuted;  and  we  might  hope 
to  arrest  the  progress  of  those  destructive  errors  which  are 
spreading  in  a  thousand  channels  through  the  land. 

The  other  cause'of  the  deficiency  which  we  notice  in  the  Ana- 
logy, is,  that  it  was  not  possible  for  Butler,  with  the  statements 
then  made  of  the  doctrines  of  grace,  to  carry  out  his  argument, 
and  give  it  its  true  bearing  on  those  doctrines.  The  philosophical 
principles  on  which  Calvinism  had  been  defended  for  a  century 
and  a  half,  were  substantially  those  of  the  schoolmen.  The  sys- 
tem had  started  out  from  darker  ages  of  the  world ;  had  been 
connected  with  minds  of  singular  strength  and  power,  but  also 
with  traits  in  some  degree  stem  and  forbidding.  Men  had  been 
thrown  into  desperate  mental  conflict.  They  had  struggled  for 
mental  and  civil  freedom.  They  had  but  little  leisure,  and  less 
inclination,  to  polish  and  adorn — to  go  into  an  investigation  of 
tue  true  laws  of  the  mind,  and  the  proper  explanation  of  facts  in 
the  moral  world — little  inclination  to  look  on  what  was  bland 
and  amiable  in  the  government  of  God.  Hence  they  took  the 
rough-cast  system,  wielded,  in  its  defence,  the  ponderous  wea- 
pons which  Augustine  and  even  the  Jansenists  had  furnished 
them,  and  prevailed  in  the  conflict ;  not,  however,  by  the  force 
of  their  philosophy,  but  of  those  decisive  declarations  of  the  word 
of  God,  with  which  unhappily  that  philosophy  had  become  iden- 
tified. But  when  they  told  of  imputing  the  sin  of  one  man  to 
another,  and  of  holding  that  other  to  be  personally  answerable  for 
it,  it  is  BO  wonder  that  such  minds  as  that  of  Butler  recoiled,  for 
there  is  nothing  like  this  in  nature.  When  they  affirmed,  that 
men  have  no  power  to  do  the  will  of  God,  and  yet  will  be  damned 
for  not  doing  what  they  have  no  capacity  to  perform,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  he  started  back,  and  refused  to  attempt  to  rind  an 
analogy;  for  it  is  unlike  the  common  sense  of  men.  When  they 
told  of  a  limited  atonement — of  confining  the  original  applica- 
bility of  the  blood  of  Christ  to  the  elect  alone,  there  icas  no  ana- 
logy to  this,  in  all  the  dealings  of  God  towards  sinners ;  in  the 
sun-beam,  in  the  dew,  the  rain,  in  running  rivulets  ar  oceans ; 
and  here  Butler  must  stop,  for  the  analogy  could  gc  no  furth£ r 
upon  the  then  prevalent  notions  of  theology. 

Still,  we  record  with  gratitude  the  achievements  of  Butler. 
We  render  our  humble  tribute  of  thanksgiving  to  God,  that  he 
raised  up  a  man  who  has  laid  the  foundation  of  an  argument 
which  can  be  applied  to  every  feature  of  the  Christian  scheme 
We  are  not  Hutchinsonians,  but  we  believe  there  is  a  course  01 
nature  most  strikingly  analogous  to  the  doctrines  of  revelation 
We  believe  that  all  the  objections  which  have  been  urged  against 
the  peculiar  doctrines  of  the  Christian  scheme,  lie  with  equa' 
weight  against  the  course  of  nature  itself,  and,  therefore,  really 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

constitute  no  objections  at  all.  This  point  of  the  argument, 
Butler  has  omitted.  To  a  contemplation  of  the  outline  of  it  we 
now  ask  the  attention  of  our  readers. 

We  are  accustomed,  in  our  ordinary  technical  theology,  to 
speak  much  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity :  and  men  of  system- 
making  minds  have  talked  of  them  so  long,  that  they  seem  to 
understand  by  them,  a  sort  of  intangible,  and  abstract  array  of 
propositions,  remote  from  real  life  and  from  plain  matter  of  fact. 
The  learner  in  divinity  is  often  told,  that  there  is  a  species  of 
daring  profaneness,  in  supposing  that  they  are  to  be  shaped  to 
existing  facts,  or  to  the  actual  operations  of  moral  agents.  All 
this  is  metaphysics,  and  the  moment  he  dares  to  ask  whether 
Turretin  or  Ridgeley  had  proper  conceptions  of  the  laws  of  the 
mind,  of  moral  agency,  or  of  facts  in  the  universe,  that  moment 
the  shades  of  all  antiquity  are  summoned  to  come  around  the 
adventurous  theologian,  and  charge  him  with  a  guilty  departure 
from  dogmas  long  held  in  the  church. 

Now  we  confess  we  have  imbibed  somewhat  different  notions 
of  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible.  We  have  been  accustomed  to  regard 
the  word  as  denoting  only  an  authoritative  teaching,  (St&a^f,, 
Matt.  vii.  28:  comp.  v.  19;  xxii.  33;  2  Tim.  iv.  2,  9,)  of  what 
actually  exists  in  the  universe.  We  consider  the  whole  system  ot 
doctrines  as  simply  a  statement  of  facts.  The  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  for'example,  is  a  statement  of  a  fact  respecting  the  mode 
of  God's  existence.  The  fact  is  beyond  any  investigation  of  our 
own  minds,  and  we  receive  the  statement  as  it  is.  The  doctrine 
of  the  mediation  is  a  statement  of  facts,  respecting  what  Christ 
did,  and  taught,  and  suffered,  as  given  by  himself  and  his  fol- 
lowers. So  of  depravity,  so  of  election  or  predestination,  so  of 
perseverance,  so  of  future  happiness  and  wo.  What,  then,  are 
the  doctrines  of  Christianity  ?  Simply  statements  of  what  has 
been,  of  what  is,  and  what  will  be,  in  the  government  of  God.  In 
this,  every  thing  is  as  far  as  possible  from  abstraction.  There 
is  as  little  abstraction,  (and  why  may  we  not  add  as  little  sacred- 
ness?)  in  these  facts, — we  mean  sacredness  to  prevent  inquiry 
into  their  true  nature— as  there  is  in  the  science  of  geology,  the 
growth  of  a  vegetable,  or  the  operations  of  the  human  intellect. 
We  may  add,  that  in  no  way  has  systematic  theology  rendered 
more  essential  disservice  to  mankind,  than  in  drawing  out  the 
life-blood  from  these  great  facts — unsfinging  the  nerves,  stiffen- 
ing the  muscles,  and  giving  the  fixedness  of  death  to  them,  as 
the  anatomist  cuts  up  the  human  frame,  removes  all  the  ele- 
ments of  life,  distends  the  arteries  and  veins  with  wax,  and  then 
places  it  in  his  room  of  preparations,  as  cold  and  repulsive  as  are 
some  systems  of  technical  divinity. 

In  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  as  given  us  in  the  Bible,  we 
find  nothing  of  this  abstract  and  unreal  character.  The  whole 
tenor  of  the  Scriptures  prepares  us  to  demand,  that  theology  be 
invariably  conformed  to  the  laws  of  the  mind,  and  the  actual 
economy  of  the  moral  and  material  universe.  The  changes 
which  have  taken  place  in  orthodox  systems  of  divinity  since  t|ie 


XAX17  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT. 

era  of  the  reformation,  have  been  chiefly  owing  to  the  changes 
in  the  system  of  mental  and  moral  science.  Whenever  that 
system  shall  be  fully  understood,  and  established  on  the  immo- 
vable foundation  of  truth,  all  •who  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  in 
sincerity,  will  be  of  one  mind  in  their  mode  of  stating  the  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel,  as  they  already  are  in  their  spiritual  feel- 
ings. Till  then,  all  that  can  be  done  by  the  friends  of  truth  will 
be  to  show,  that  the  objections  which  are  urged  against  the  doc- 
trines of  grace,  can  be  urged  with  equal  power,  against  all  the 
facts  in  God's  moral  government. 

From  the  beginning,  formidable  objections  have  been  brought 
ngainst  what  are  called  the  Doctrines  of  Grace,  or  the  Evangeli- 
cal System,  or  Calvinism.  These  objections  have  seldom,  if 
ever,  been  drawn  from  the  Bible.  Their  strength  has  consisted 
in  the  alleged  fact,  that  these  doctrines  are  in  opposition  to  the 

the  world. 


established  principles,  by  which  God  governs  the  world.  We 
concede,  that  there  is  just  enough  of  apparent  irregularity  in 
those  principles,  to  make  these  objections  plausible  with  the 


tain  appearances  strongly  favoured  the  old  doctrine,  that  the  sun, 
moon,  and  stars  travelled,  in  marshalled  hosts,  around  our  insig- 
nificant orb,  just  as,  in  the  Arminian  system,  certain  appear- 
ances may  seem  to  indicate  that  man  is  the  centre  cf  the  system. 
and  that  God,  and  all  the  hosts  of  heaven,  live  and  act  chiefly  to 
minister  to  his  comfort.  But  it  is  now  clear,  that  all  the  proper 
facts  in  astronomy  go  to  prove,  that  the  earth  is  a  small  part  of 
the  plan,  and  to  confirm  the  system  of  Copernicus.  So  we  affirm 
that  the  Calvinistic  scheme— despite  all  Arminian  appearances, 
is  the  plan  on  which  this  world  is  actually  governed;  and  that 
all  the  objections  that  have  been  urged  against  it  are  urged 
against  facts  that  are  fixed  in  the  very  nature  of  things.  And 
we  affirm  that  a  mind  which  could  take  in  all  these  facts,  could 
make  up  the  Calvinistic  scheme  without  the  aid  of  revelation, 
from  the  actual  course  of  events ;  just  as  in  the  ruins  of  an 
ancient  city  the  skilful  architect  can  discern  in  the  broken  frag- 
ments, pillars  of  just  dimensions,  arches  of  proper  proportions, 
and  the  remains  of  edifices  of  symmetry  and  grandeur. 

In  entering  on  this  subject,  however,  we  cannot  but  remark, 
that  the  Evangelical  Scheme  is  often  held  answerable  for  that 
\vhich  it  did  not  originate.  We  mean,  that  when  opposers 
approach  the  Christian  system,  they  almost  universally  hold  it 
responsible  for  the  fall,  as  well  as  the  recovery,  of  man.  They 
are  not  willing  to  consider,  that  it  is  a  scheme  proposed  to  remedy 
an  existing  state  of  evil.  Christianity  did  not  plunge  men  inta 
sin.  It  is  the  system  by  which  men  are  to  be  -ecovered  from 
wo — wo  which  would  have  existed  to  quite  as  great  an  extent, 
certainly,  if  the  conception  of  the  evangelical  system  had  nevei 
entered  the  divine  mind.  The  theory  and  practice  of  medicine 
is  not  to  be  held  answerable  for  the  fact  that  man  is  subject  to 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  XXX» 

Jisease  and  death.  It  finds  men  thus  subject;  and  all  that  can 
be  justly  required  of  the  art,  is  that  to  which  it  makes  preten- 
sions, viz.  that  it  can  do  something  towards  removing  or  allevia- 
ting human  suffering.  So  in  Christianity.  That  men  are  in 
fact  in  the  midst  of  sin,  suffering,  and  death,  is  undeniable.  The 
doctrine  is  common  to  the  deist,  the  atheist,  and  the  Christian. 
For  that  Christianity  is  not  answerable.  It  proposes  a  remedy, 
and  that  remedy  is  properly  the  Christian  system.  Still  we 
shall  not,  in  our  present  discussion,  avail  ourselves  of  this  very 
obvious  remark;  but  shall  proceed  to  notice  the  objections  to  the 
entire  series  of  revealed  facts,  as  if  they  constituted  one  system  : 
— and  the  rather  as  the  evangelical  system  proposes  a  statement 
respecting  the  exact  extent  of  the  evil,  which  has  an  importaat 
bearing  on  the  features  of  the  remedv  proposed. 

1.  The  first  fact,  then,  presented  for  our  examination  is  the 
fall  of  man.  The  Scriptures  affirm  that  a  solitary  act — an  act 
_n  itself  exceedingly  unimportant — was  the  beginning  of  that 
ong  train  of  sin  and  wretchedness,  which  has  passed  upon  our 
world.  Now,  we  acknowledge  that  to  all  the  mystery  and  fenr- 
fulness  of  this  fact  our  bosoms  beat  with  a  full  response  to  that 
of  the  objector.  We  do  not  understand  the  reason  of  it ;  and 
what  is  of  more  consequence  to  us  and  to  the  objector  is,  Uiat 
an  explanation  of  this  mystery,  forms  no  part  of  the  system  of  t  t-ve- 
lation.  The  only  inquiry  at  present  before  us,  is,  whether  the 
fact  in  question  is  so  separated  from  all  Other  events,  as  to  be 
expressly  contradicted  by  the  analogy  of  nature. 

We  know  there  has  been  a  theory,  which  affirms  that  we  are 
one  with  Adam — that  we  so  existed  in  his  loins,  as  to  act  with 
him — that  our  wilts  concurred  with  his  will — that  his  action  was 
strictly  and  properly  ours — and  that  we  are  held  answerable  at 
the  bar  of  justice  for  that  deed,  just  as  A.  B.  at  fifty  is  responsi- 
ble for  the  deed  of  A.  B.  at  twelve.  In  other  words,  that  tr.e  act 
of  Adam,  involving  us  all  in  ruin,  is  taken  out  of  all  ordinary 
laws  by  which  God  governs  the  world,  and  made  to  stand  by 
itself,  as  incapable  of  any  illustration  from  analogy,  and  as 
mocking  any  attempt  to  defend  it  by  reasoning.  With  this 
theory,  we  confess  we  have  no  sympathy ;  and  we  shall  dismiss 
it  with  saying,  that  in  our  view,  Christian'ty  never  teaches  that 
men  are  responsible  for  any  sin  but  their  own ;  nor  can  they  be 
guilty,  or  held  liable  to  punishment,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that 
term,  for  conduct  other  than  that  which  has  grown  out  of  their 
own  wills.  Indeed  we  see  not  how,  if  it  were  a  dogma  of  a  pre- 
tended revelation,  that  God  might  at  pleasure,  and  by  an  arbi- 
trary decree,  make  crime  pass  from  one  individral  to  anether — 
striking  onward  from  age  to  age,  and  reaching  downward  to 
"the  last  season  of  recorded  time," — punished  in  the  original 
offender ;  repunished  in  his  children ;  and  punished  again  and 
again,  by  infinite  multiples,  in  countless  ages  and  individuals — 
and  all  this  judicial  infliction,  for  a  single  act,  performed  cycles 
of  ages  before  the  individuals  lived,  we  see  not  how  any  evidence 
could  shake  our  intrinsic  belief  that  this  is  unjust  a^d  improbable. 


XiXVl  INTRODUCTORY   ESSAY. 

We  confess  we  lAve  imbibed  other  views  of  justice;  and  we 
believe  that  he  who  can  find  the  head  and  members  of  this  the« 
ory  in  the  Bible,  will  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  there  any  of 
the  dogmas  of  the  darkest  night  that  ever  settled  on  the  church. 
Eut,  that  the  consequences  or  results  of  an  action  may  pass  over 
from  one  individual  to  another,  and  affect  the  condition  of  unborn 
generations,  we  hold  to  be  a  doctrine  of  the  sacred  Scriptuies, 
and  to  be  fully  sustained  by  the  analogy  of  nature.*  And  no 
one  Avho  looks  at  the  scriptural  account  of  the  fall  and  recovery 
of  man,  can  doubt  that  it  is  a  cardinal  point  in  the  system.  We 
affirm  that  it  is  a  doctrine  fully  sustained  by  the  course  of  events 
around  us.  Indeed  the  fact  is  so  common,  that  we  should  be 
exhausting  the  patience  of  our  readers  by  attempting  to  draw  out 
formal  instances.  Who  is  ignorant  of  the  progressive  and 
descending  doom  of  the  drunkard  ?  "Who  is  stranger  to  the 
common  fact,  that  his  intemperance  wastes  the  property  which 
was  necessary  to  save  a  wife  and  children  from  beggary—  that 
his  appetite  may  be  the  cause  of  his  family's  being  despised,  illi- 
terate and  ruined ;  that  the  vices  Avhich  follow  in  the  train  of  his 
intemperance,  often  encompass  his  offspring,  and  that  they  too 
are  profane,  unprincipled,  idle,  and  loathsome  ?  So  of  the  mur- 
derer, the  thief,  the  highwayman,  the  adulterer.  The  result  of 
their  conduct  rarely  terminates  with  themselves.  They  are  lost 
to  society,  and  their  children  are  lost  with  them.  Nor  does  the 
evjl  stop  here.  Not  merely  are  the  external  circumstances  of  the 
child  affected  by  the  misdeeds  of  a  parent,  but  there  is  often  a 
dark  suspicion  resting  upon  his  very  soul,  there  is  felt  to  be  in 
him  a  hereditary  presumptive  tendency  to  crime,  which  can  be 
removed  only  by  a  long  course  of  virtuous  conduct,  and  which 
even  then  the  slightest  circumstance  re-excites.  Is  an  illegiti- 
mate child  to  blame  for  the  aberration  of  a  mother?  Yet  who 
is  ignorant  of  the  fact  that,  in  very  few  conditions  of  society, 
such  a  son  is  placed  on  a  level  with  the  issue  of  lawful  wedlock  ? 
iSo  the  world  over,  we  approach  the  son  of  the  drunkard,  the 
ti.urderer, and  the  traitor,  with  all  these  terrible  suspicions.  The 
father's  deeds  shut  our  doors  against  him.  Nor  can  he  be  raised 
to  the  level  of  his  former  state,  but  by  a  long  course  of  purity 
and  well-doing.  Now  in  all  these  cases,  we  see  a  general  course 
of  things  in  "Divine  Providence,  corresponding,  in  important 
respects,  to  the  case  of  Adam  and  his  descendants.  We  do  not 
deem  the  child  guilty,  or  ill-deserving,  but  society  is  so  organized, 
and  sin  is  so  great  an  evil,  that  the  proper  effects  cannot  be  seen,  and 
the  proper  terror  be  infused  into  the  mind  to  deter  from  it,  without 
such  an  organization.  It  is  true  that  these  results  do  not  take  place 
with  undeviating  certainty.  It  is  not  always  the  case  that  the 

*Rom.  v.  12—19  ;  lCor.xv.21,22,  49 ;  Josh.vii.24,  25  ;  Ex.xvii.  16, 
1  Sam.  xv.  2.  3  •  Matt,  xxiii.  35.  This  view  is  by  no  means  confined  to 
revelation.  The  ancient  heathen  long  since  observed  it,  and  regarded  it 
as  the  great  principle  on  which  the  world  was  governed.  Thus  Heaiod 
pays,  roXXi»u  <cai  fv/iiraoa  rroXif  KUKOV  arfyof  ttavpov :  And  Horace  saya, 
CXuicquid  delirant  reges  plectuntur  Achivi. 


INTRODUCTORY   5SSAT.  XXXTJ1 

child  of  a  drunkard  is  intemperate,  idle,  or  illiterate;  while  it  is 
always  the  case,  that  a  descendant  of  Adam  is  a  sinner.  In  the 
former  case,  there  may  be  other  Jaws  of  government  to  prevent 
ihe  regular  operations  of  the  plan.  In  the  latter,  God  has  not 
seen  fit  wholly  to  interrupt  the  regular  process  in  a  single 
instance.  Even  when  men  are  renewed — as  the  child  of  the 
drunkard  may  be  removed  from  the  regular  curse  of  the  parent's 
conduct — the  renewed  man  still  is  imperfect,  and  still  suffers 
pain  and  death. 

But,  we  know,  there  is  an  appearance  of  much  that  is  formi- 
dable in  the  difficulty,  that  a  single  act,  and  that  a  most  unim- 
portant one,  should  result  in  so  many  crimes  and  calamities. 
But  the  objection,  as  we  have  seen,  lies  against  the  course  of 
nature,  as  truly  as  against  the  revealed  facts  resulting  from  the 
connexion  of  Adam  and  his  descendants.  To  lessen  the  objec- 
tion, we  would  further  remark,  that  it  is  not  the  outward  form  of 
an  action  which  determines  its  character  and  results.  The  blow 
which  in  self-defence  strikes  a  highwayman  to  the  earth,  may 
have  the  same  physical  qualities,  as  that  which  reached  the 
heart  of  the  venerable  White  of  Salem.  It  is  the  circtimstanr.es, 
the  attendants,  the  relations,  the  links  that  hind  the  deed  to 
others,  which  determine  the  character  of  the  action.  Adam's 
act  had  this  towering  preeminence,  that  it  was  the  first  in  the 
newly  created  globe,  and  committed  by  the  first  of  mortals;  the 
prospective  father  of  immense  multitudes.  In  looking  at  it, 
then,  we  are  to  turn  from  the  mere  physical  act,  to  run  the  eye 
along  the  conduct  of  his  descendants,  and  to  see  if  WP  can  find 
any  other  deeds  that  shall  be  first  in  a  series,  and  then  to  mark 
their  results,  and  in  them  we  shall  find  the  proper  analogy.  Now 
it  is  evident,  that  here  we  shall  find  no  other  act  that  will  have 
the  same  awful  peculiarity  as  the  deed  of  our  first  father.  Bui 
are  there  no  acts  that  can  be  set  over  against  this,  to"  illustrate 
its  unhappy  consequences  ?  We  look,  then,  at  the  deed  of  a  man 
of  high  standing  whose  character  has  been  blameless,  and  whose 
ancestry  has  been  noble.  We  suppose  him,  in  an  evil  moment, 
to  listen  to  temptation,  to  fall  into  the  wiles  of  the  profligate,  or 
even  to  become  a  traitor  to  his  country.  Now  who  does  not  see 
now  the  fact  of  this  being  a  first  and  characteristic  deed,  may 
entail  deeper  misery  on  his  friends,  and  stain  the  escutcheon  of 
his  family  with  a  broader  and  fouler  blot?  Or  take  an  ins'ance 
which  approaches  still  nearer  to  the  circumstances  of  our  first 
parents'  crime.  One  false  step,  the  first  in  a  before  virtuous 
female  of  honourable  parentage,  and  high  standing,  spreads  sack- 
clotn  and  wo  over  entire  families,  and  sends  the  curse  prolonged 
far  into  advancing  years.  It  needs  no  remark  to  show  how 
much  that  deed  may  differ  in  its  results,  from  any  subsequent 
acts  of  profligacy  in  that  individual.  The  first  act  has  spread . 
mcurning  throughout  every  circle  of  friends.  Lost  now  to  vir- 
tue, and  disowned  by  friends,  the  subsequent  conduct  may  be 
regarded  as  in  character,  and  the  results  terminate  only  in  the 
offending  individual.  It  is  impossible  here  nor  to  recur  to  the 


XXXV111  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

melancholy  case  of  Dr.  Dodd.  His  crime  differed  not  from  othei 
acts  of  forgery  except  in  his  circumstances.  It  was  a  first  deed, 
the  deed  of  a  man  of  distinction,  of  supposed  piety,  of  a  pure  and 
high  profession,  and  the  deed  stood  out  with  a  dreadful  pre- 
eminence in  the  eyes  of  the  world ;  nor  could  the  purity  of  his 
profession,  nor  the  eloquence  of  Johnson,  nor  the  voice  of  thirty 
thousand  petitioners,  nor  the  native  compassion  of  George  III. 
save  him  from  the  tremendous  malediction  of  the  law — a  death 
as  conspicuous  as  the  offence  was  primary  and  eminent. 

We  think  from  this  peculiarity  of  a  first  offence,  we  can  meet 
many  of  the  objections  which  men  allege  against  the  doctrines 
of  revelation,  on  the  subject.  If  further  illustration  were  needed, 
we  might  speak  of  the  opposite,  and  advert  to  the  well-knosvn 
fact,  that  a  first  distinguished  act  in  a  progenitor  may  result  in 
the  lasting  good  of  those  connected  with  him  by  the  ties  of  kin- 
dred or  of  law.  Who  can  reflect  without  emotion  on  the  great 
deed  by  which  Columbus  discovered  the  western  world,  and  the 
glory  it  has  shed  on  his  family,  and  the  interest  which  in  conse- 
quence of  it  has  arisen  at  the  very  name,  and  which  we  feel  for 
any  mortal  that  is  connected  with  him  ?  Who  can  remember 
without  deep  feeling,  the  philanthropy  of  Howard,  and  the  death- 
less lustre  which  his  benevolence  has  thrown  over  his  family  and 
his  name  ?  Who  thinks  of  the  family  of  Washingtou  without 
some  deep  emotion,  running  back  to  the  illustrious  man  whose 
glory  has  shed  its  radiance  around  Mount  Vernon,  around  IMS 
family,  around  our  capital,  and  over  all  our  battle-fields,  and  all 
the  millions  of  whom  he  was  the  constituted  political  father  1 
There  is  a  peculiarity  in  the  great  first  deed  which  sheds  a  lustre 
on  all  that,  by  any  laws  of  association,  can  be  connected  with  it. 
Compared  with  other  deeds,  having  perhaps  the  same  physical 
dimensions,  it  is  like  the  lustre  of  the  sun  diffusing  his  beams 
overall  the  planets,  when  contrasted  with  the  borrowed,  reflected 
ravs  of  the  moon  which  shines  upon  our  little  globe. 

Now  we  think  there  is  an  analogy  between  these  cases  and 
that  of  Adam,  because  we  think  it  is  a  fixed  principle  in  moral 
as  in  natural  legislation,  that  the  same  law  is  applicable  to  the 
same  facts.  We  find  a  series  of  facts  on  the  earth,  and  a  simi- 
lir  series  in  the  movement  of  the  planets,  and  we  have  a  single 
term  to  express  the  whole — gravitation.  We  deem  it  unphilo- 
sophical  to  suppose  the  nature  is  there,  in  the  same  facts,  sub- 
jected to  different  laws,  from  what  passes  before  our  own  eyes. 
So  when  we  find  one  uniform  process  in  regard  to  moral  con- 
duct— when  we  find  results,  ccmsequences  and  not  crimes  travel 
ling  from  father  to  son,  and  holding  on  their  unbroken  way  to 
distant  ages,  why  should  we  hesitate  to  admit,  that  to  a  great 
extent,  at  least,  the  facts  respecting  Adam  and  his  descendants 
fall  under  the  same  great  law  of  divine  providence  ?  We  do  not 
here  deny,  that  there  may  have  been  beyond  this  a  peculiarity  in 
the  case  of  Adam,  which  must  be  referred  to  the  decisions  of 
divine  wisdom,  and  justified  on  other  principles  than  those  of  any 
known  analogy.  But  we  never  can  adopt  that  system  which 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT.  XXXU 

framples  on  all  the  analogies  which  actually  exist,  and  holds 
men  to  be  personally  answerable,  and  actually  punished  by  a  just 
Gfod,  for  an  act  committed  thousands  of  years  before  they  were 
norn.  Such  a  doctrine  is  no  where  to  be  found  in  the  scriptures. 

2.  As  the  result  of  this  act  of  Adam,  Christianity  affirms  thai 
man  is  depraved.  It  has  marked  the  character  and  extent  ot 
this  depravity,  with  a  particularity  which  we  wonder  has  evei 
been  called  into  debate.*  It  affirms  that  man  is  by  nature  des- 
titute of  holiness,  and  it  is  on  the  ground  of  this  fact  that  the 
Christian  scheme  was  necessary.  There  is  one  great  principle 
running  through  the  whole  of  this  scheme,  which  renders  it 
what  it  is,  viz. — the  appointment  of  a  Mediator.  It  regards  man 
as  so  fallen,  and  so  helpless,  that  but  for  an  extraordinary  inter- 
vention— the  appointment  of  some  being  that  should  interpose 
to  save,  it  was  impossible  that  any  native  elasticity  in  the  human 
powers  or  will,  or  any  device  which  human  ingenuity  mif  ht  fall 
on,  should  raise  him  up,  and  restore  him  to  the  favour  of  God. 
Now  the  thing  which  most  manifestly  characterizes  this  sys- 
tem is  the  doctrine  of  substitution — or  the  fact  that  Jesus  Christ 
lived  for  others,  toiled  for  others,  and  died  for  others ;  or,  in  other 
words,  that  God  bestows  upon  us  pardon  and  life  in  consequence 
of  what  his  Son  has  done  and  suffered  in  our  stead.f  The 
peculiarity  which  distinguishes  this  system  from  all  others,  is, 
that  man  does  not  approach  his  Maker  directly,  but  only  through 
the  atonement  of  the  Son  of  God. 

Now  in  recurring  to  the  analogy  of  nature,  we  have  only  to 
ask,  whether  calamities  which  are  hastening  to  fall  on  us,  are 
ever  put  back  by  the  intervention  of  another?  Are  there  any 
cases  in  which  either  our  own  crimes  or  the  manifest  judgments 
ol  God,  are  bringing  ruin  upon  us,  where  that  ruin  is  turned 
aside  by  the  interposition  of  others  ?  Now  we  at  once  cast  our 
eyes  backward  to  all  the  helpless  and  dangerous  periods  of  our 
being.  Did  God  come  forth  directly,  and  protect  us  in  the 
defenceless  period  of  infancy?  Who  watched  over  the  sleep  of 
the  cradle,  and  guarded  us  in  sickness  and  helplessness  ?  It  was 
the  tenderness  of  a  mother  bending  over  our  slumbering  child- 
hood, foregoing  sleep,  and  rest,  and  ease,  and  hailing  toil  and 
care  that  we  might  be  defended.  Why  then  is  it  strange,  that 
when  God  thus  ushers  us  into  existence  through  the  pain  and 
toil  of  another,  that  he  should  convey  the  blessings  of  a  higher 
existence  by  the  groans  and  pangs  ofa  higher  mediator?  God 
gives  us  knowledge.  But  does  he  come  forth  to  teach  us  by 
inspiration,  or  guide  us  by  his  own  hand  to  the  fountains  of 
wisdom  ?  It  is  by  years  of  patient  toil  in  olliers,  that  we  pos- 
sess the  elements  of  science,  the  principles  of  morals,  the  endow- 
ments of  religion.  He  gives  us  food  and  raiment.  Is  the 
Great  Parent  of  Benevolence  seen  clothing  us  by  his  own  hand, 

*  Rom.  i.  21—32 ;  iii.  10—19  ;  v.  12  ;  Tin.  6,  7.  Gen.  viii.  21 .  Ps.  xiv 
1—3.  F.ph.  ii.  1— 3.  Uohnv.  19.  John  iii.  1 — 6. 

tJolini.  29.  Eph.  v.  2.  1  John  ii.  2 ;  iv.  10.  Isa.  iiii.  4.  Rom.  iii 
J4.25.  2  Cor.  v.  14.  1  Pet.  ii.  21. 


Xl  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

or  ministering  directly  to  our  wants?  Who  makes  provisions 
for  the  sons  and  daughters  of  feebleness,  or  gaiety,  or  idleness  ? 
Who  but  the  care-worn  and  anxious  father  and  mother,  who  toil 
that  their  offspring  may  receive  these  benefits  from  their  hands. 
Why  then  may  not  the  garments  of  salvation,  and  the  manna 
of  life,  come  through  a  higher  mediator,  and  be  the  fruit  of 
•severer  toil  and  sufferings  ?  Heaven's  highest,  richest,  benefits 
are  thus  conveyed  to  the  race  through  thousands  of  hands  acting 
as  mediums  between  man  and  God.  It  is  thus,  through  the 
instrumentality  of  others,  that  the  Great  Giver  of  life  breathes 
health  into  our  bodies  and  vigour  into  our  frames.  And  why 
should  he  not  reach  also  the  sick  and  weary  mind — the  soul  lan- 
guishing under  a  long  and  wretched  disease,  by  the  hand  of  a 
mediator?  Why  should  he  not  kindle  the  glow  of  spiritual 
health  on  the  wan  cheek,  and  infuse  celestial  life  into  our  veins, 
by  him  who  is  the  great  physician  of  souls?  The  very  earth, 
air,  waters,  are  all  channels  for  conveying  blessings  to  us  from 
God.  Why  then  should  the  infidel  stand  back,  and  all  sinners 
frown,  when  we  claim  the  same  thing  in  redemption,  and  affirm 
that,  in  this  great* concern,  "  there  is  one  mediator  between  God 
and  man,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  who  gave  himself  a  ransom 
for  all." 

But  still  it  may  be  said,  that  this  is  not  an  atonement.  We 
admit  it.  We  maintain  only  that  it  vindicates  the  main  princi- 
ple of  the  atonement,  and  shows  that  it  is  according  to  a  gene- 
ral law,  that  God  imparts  spiritual  blessings  to  us  through  a 
mediator.  What  we  ask  is  the  precise  objectionable  point  in 
the  atonement,  if  it  be  not,  that  God  aids  us  in  our  sins  and 
woes,  by  the  self-denial  and  sufferings  of  another  ?  And  we 
ask,  whether  there  is  any  thing  so  peculiar  in  such  a  system,  as 
to  make  it  intrinsically  absurd  and  incredible  ?  Now  we  think 
there  is  nothing  more  universal  and  indisputable  than  a  system 
of  nature  like  this.  God  has  made  the  whole  animal  world 
tributary  to  man.  And  it  is  by  the  toil  and  pain  of  creation, 
ihat  our  wants  are  supplied,  our  appetites  gratified,  our  bodies 
sustained,  our  sickness  alleviated — that  is,  the  impending  evil? 
of  labour,  famine,  or  disease  are  put  away  by  these  substituted 
toils  and  privations.  By  the  blood  of  patriots  he  gives  us  the 
blessings  of  liberty, — that  is,  by  their  sufferings  in  our  defence 
we  are  delivered  from  the  miseries  of  rapine,  murder,  or  slavery, 
which  might  have  encompassed  our  dwellings.  The  toil  of  a 
father,  is  "the  price  by  which  a  son  is  saved  from  ignorance, 
depravity,  Avant,  or  death.  The  tears  of  a  mother,  and'her  long 
watchfulness,  save  from  the  perils  of  infancy,  and  an  early 
death.  Friend  aids  friend  by  toil ;  a  parent  foregoes  rest  for  a 
child  ;  and  the  patriot  pours  out  his  blood  on  the  altars  of  free- 
dom, that  others  may  enjoy  the  blessings  of  liberty— that  is,  that 
others  miy  not  be  doomed  to  slavery,  want,  and  death. 

Yet  still'  it  may  be  said,  that  we  have  not  come,  in  the  analogy, 
to  the  precise  point  of  the  atonement,  in  producing  reconciliation 
with  God  by  the  sufferings  of  another.  We  ask,  then,  whcu  ia 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  ill 

the  scripture  account  of  the  effect  of  (he  atonement  in  producing 
reconciliation  ?  Man  is  justly  exposed  to  suffering.  He  is 
guilty,  and  it  is  th°  righteous  purpose  of  God  that  the  guilty 
should  suffer.  God  is  so  opposed  to  him  that  he  will  inflict 
suffering  on  him,  unless  by  an  atonement  it  is  prevented.  By 
ihe  intervention  of  the  atonement,  therefore,  ,the  scriptures 
affirm  that  such  sufferings  shall  be  averted.  The  man  shall  be 
saved  from  the  impending  calamity.  Sufficient  for  all  the  pur- 
poses of  justice,  and  of  just  government,  has  fallen  on  the  sub- 
stitute, and  the  sinner  may  be  pardoned  and  reconciled  to  God. 
Now,  we  affirm,  that  in  every  instance  of  the  substituted  suffer 
ings,  or  self-denial  of  the  parent,  the  patriot,  or  the  benefactor, 
there  occurs  a  state  of  things  so  analogous  to  this,  as  to  show 
that  it  is  in  strict  accordance  with  the  just  government  of  God. 
and  to  remove  all  the  objections  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  atcne- 
ment.  Over  a  helpless  babe — ushered  into  the  world,  naked 
feeble,  speechless,  there  impends  hunger,  cold,  sick-ness,  sudden 
death — a  mother's  watchfulness  averts  these  evils.  Over  a 
nation  impend  revolutions,  sword,  famine,  and  the  pestilence. 
The  blood  of  the  patriot  averts  these,  and  the  nation  smiles  in 
peace.  Look  at  a  particular  instance.  Xerxes  poured  his  mil 
lions  on  the  shores  of  Greece.  The  vast  host  darkened  all  the 
plains,  and  stretched  towards  the  capitol.  In  the  train  there 
followed  weeping,  blood,  conflagration,  and  the  loss  of  liberty. 
Leonidas  almost  alone,  stood  in  his  path.  He  fought.  Who 
ran  calculate  the  effects  of  the  valour  and  blood  of  that  single 
man  and  his  compatriots  in  averting  calamities  from  Greece, 
and  from  other  nations  struggling  in  the  cause  of  freedom? 
Who  can  tell  how  much  of  rapine,  of  cruelty,  and  of  groans  and 
tears  it  turned  away  from  that  nation? 

Now  we  by  no  means  affirm  that  this  is  all  that  is  meant  by  an 
atonement,  as  revealed  by  Christianity.  We  affirm  oniy,  that 
there  is  a  sufficient  similarity  in  the  two  cases,  to  remove  the 
points  of  objection  to  an  atonement,  made  by  the  infidel, — to 
show  that  reconciliation  by  the  sufferings  of  another,  or  a  putting 
away  evils  by  the  intervention  of  a  mediator,  is  not  a  violation 
of  the  analogies  of  the  natural  and  moral  world.  Indeed  we 
should  have  thought  it  an  argument  for  the  rejection  of  a  sys- 
tem, if  it  had  not  contemplated  the  removal  of  evils  by  the  toils 
and  pains  of  substitution.  We  maintain  that  the  system  of  the 
Unitarians  which  denies  all  such  substitution,  is  a  violation  of 
all  the  modes  in  which  God  has  yet  dispensed  his  blessings  to 
men  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  there  is  all  the  antecedent  pre- 
sumption there  could  be,  that,  if  God  intended  to  confer  saving 
blt'ssinps  on1  mankind,  it  would  be,  by  the  interposition  of  the 
toils,  groans,  and  blood,  of  a  common  mediating  friend.  1  he 
w  1  known  case  of  the  king  of  the  Locrians,  is  only  an  instai  ce 
of  the  way  in  which  reconciliation  is  to  be  brought  about  among 
men.  He  made  a  law  that  the  adulterer  should  be  punished 
with  the  loss  of  his  eyes.  His  son  was  the  first  offendei.  'I  he 
feelings  of  the  father  and  the  justice  of  the  king  conflicted 


Z.  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

Reconciliation  was  produced  by  suffering  the  loss  of  one  eye 
himself,  and  inflicting  the  remainder  of  ihe  penalty  on  his  son, 

But  still,  there  are  two  points  in  the  atonement  so  well  sub- 
stantiated, and  yet  apparently  contradictory,  that  it  becomes  an 
f'nteresting  inquiry,  whether  both  positions  can  find  an  analogy  in 
the  course  of  events.  The  first  is,  that  the  atonement  was  origin- 
nl!y  applicabfe  to  all  men — that  it  was  not  limited  by  its  nature 
to  any  class  of  men,  or  any  particular  individuals — that  it  was 
an  offering  made  for  the  race,*  and  is,  when  made,  in  the  widest 
and  fullest  sense,  the  property  of  man ;  and  the  second  is,  that  H 
is  actually  applied  to  only  a  portion  of  the  race,  and  that  it  was 
the  purpose  of  God  that  it  should  be  so  applied.! 

Now  in  regard  to  the  first  aspect  of  the  atonement  suggested, 
we  can  110  more  doubt  that  it  had  this  original  universal  appli- 
cability, than  we  can  any  of  the  plainest  propositions  of  the 
Bible.  If  this  is  not  clear,  nothing  can  be  clear  in  the  use  of  the 
Greek  and  English  tongues — and  we  discern  in  this,  we  think,  a 
strict  accordance  with  the  ordinary  provisions  which  God  has 
made  for  man.  We  look  at  any  of  his  gifts — from  the  smallest 
that  makes  life  comfortable,  to  the  richest  in  redemption,  and  w  e 
shall  not  find  one,  that  in  its  nature,  is  limited  in  its  applicability 
to  any  class  of  individuals.  The  sun  on  which  we  look  sheds 
his  rays  on  all— on  all  alike ;  the  air  we  breathe  has  an  original 
adaptation  to  all  who  may  inhale  it,  and  is  ample  for  the  want  of 
any  number  of  millions.  From  the  light  of  the  feeblest  star,  to 
full-orbed  day ;  from  the  smallest  dew  drop,  to  the  mountain 
torrent ;  from  the  blushing  violet,  to  the  far  scented  magnolia  ; 
there  is  an  original  applicability  of  the  gifts  of  providence  to  all 
the  race :  they  are  fitted  to  man  as  man,  and  the  grandeur  of 
God's  beneficence  appears  in  spreading  the  earth  with  fruits  and 
flowers,  making  it  one  wide  garden,  in  place  of  the  straitened 
paradise  that  was  lost.  We  might  defy  the  most  acute  defender 
of  the  doctrine  of  limited  atonement,  to  produce  an  instance  in 
the  provisions  of  God,  where  there  was  a  designed  limitation  in 
the  nature  of  the  thing.  We  shall  be  slow  to  believe  that  God 
has  not  a  uniform  plan  in  his  mode  of  governing  men. 

But  still  it  will  be  asked,  what  is  the  use  of  a  universal  atone- 
ment, if  it  is  not  actually  applied  to  all?  Does  God  work  in 
vain  ?  Or  would  he  make  a  provision  in  the  dying  groans  of 
his  Son,  that  was  to  be  useless  to  the  universe'  ?  We  might 
say  here,  that  in  our  view,  there  is  no  waste  of  this  provision, — 
that  the  sufferings  which  were  requisite  for  the  race,  were  only 
those  which  were  demanded  in  behalf  of  a  single  individual : 
and  that  we  are  ignorant  of  the  way  of  applying  guages  and 
decimal  admeasurements  and  pecuniary  computations  to  a  grand 
moral  transaction.  But  we  reply,  that  it  is  according  to  God's 
way  of  doing  things,  that  many  of  his  piovisions  should  apperr 
to  us  to  be  vain.  We  see  in  this,  the  hand  of  the  same  God 

*  2 Cor.  v.  14.,  15.  Uohnii.  2.  Heb.  ii.  9.  John  lii.  16,17;  vi.  51.  2Pet.ii.  1 
•t  Isa.  liii.  10.    John  xvii.   2.    Eph.  i.  3—11.     Koni.  viii.  29,30;  iv 
15—24.     John  vi.  37,  39.     2  Tun.  i.  ix. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  xlifl 

that  pours  the  rays  of  noon-day  on  barren  sands,  and  genial 
showers  on  desert  rocks,  where  no  man  is — to  our  eye,  though 
not  to  his,  in  vain.  Who  knows  not  that  the  sun  sheds  his  daily 
beams  on  halt"  the  globe  covered  with  trackless  waters;  and 
around  thousands  of  dungeons  where  groans  in  darkness  the 
prisoner?  But  some  Solon  or  Cadmus  may  yet  cross  these 
oceans,  to  bear  law  and  letters  to  the  barbarian ;  some  Howard 
to  pity  and  relieve  the  sufferer;  some  Xavier  or  Vanderkemp  to 
tell  benighted  men  of  the  dying  and  risen  Son  of  God.  So  we 
say  of  the  atonement.  It  is  not  useless.  Other  ages  shall  open 
their  eyes  upon  this  sun  of  righteousness;  shall  wash  in  this 
open  fountain  ;  shall  pluck  the  fruit  from  this  tree  of  life;  shall 
apply  for  healing  to  the  balm  of  Gilead  and  find  a  physician  there. 

But  still  it  was  the  purpose— the  decree  of  God,  that  this  atone- 
ment should  be  actually  applied  to  but  a  part — we  believe  ulti- 
mately a  large  part  of  the  human  family.  By  this  we  mean, 
that  it  is  in  fact  so  applied,  and  that  this  fact  is  the  expression  of 
the  purpose  or  decree  in  God.  So  it  is  with  all  the  objects  we 
have  mentioned.  Food  is  not  given  to  all.  Health  is  not  the 
inheritance  of  all.  Liberty,  peace,  and  wealth,  are  diffused  un- 
equally among  men.  We  interpret  the  decrees  of  God,  so  far 
as  we  can  do  it,  by  facts  ;  and  we  say  that  the  actual  result,  by 
whatever  means  brought  about,  is  the  expression  of  the  design 
of  God.  Nor  can  any  man  doubt,  that  the  dissemination  of 
these  blessings  is  to  be  traced  to  the  ordering  of  God.  Is  it 
owing  to  any  act  of  man,  that  the  bark  of  Peru  was  so  long 
unknown,  or  that  the  silver  of  Potosi  slept  for  ages  unseen  by 
any  human  eye  ?  Is  there  not  evidence,  that  it  was  according 
to  the  good  pleasure  of  the  Giver,  that  the  favour  should  not  be 
bestowed  on  men  till  Columbus  crossed  the  main,  and  laid  open 
the  treasures  and  the  materia  medica  of  the  west,  to  an  avaricious 
and  an  afflicted  world  ?  We  are  here  struck  with  another  im- 
portant analogy  in  the  manner  in  which  God's  plans  are  de- 
veloped. Who  would  have  imagined  that  so  important  a  matter 
as  the  discovery  of  a  new  worldT,  should  have  depended  on  the 
false  reasonings  and  fancy  of  an  obscure  Genoese  ?  Who  would 
have  thought  that  all  the  wealth  of  Potosi,  should  have  depended 
for  its  discovery,  on  so  unimportant  a  circumstance,  as  an 
Indian's  palling  ap  a  shrub  by  accident  in  hunting  a  deer  ?  So 
in  the  redemption  of  man, — in  the  applicability  of  the  atone- 
ment. Who  is  ignorant  that  the  reformation  originated  in  the 
private  thoughts  of  an  obscure  man  in  a  monastery.  A  Latin 
Bible  fallen  on  as  accidentally,  and  a  treasure  as  much  unknown, 
as  Hualpi's  discovery  of  the  mines  of  Potosi,  led  the  way  to  the 
most  glorious  series  of  events  since  the  days  of  the  apostles. 

But  it  is  still  said,  that  it  is  unreasonable  for  men  to  suffer  in 
consequence  of  not  being  put  in  possession  of  the  universal 
atonement;  and  that  Christianity  affirms  there  is  no  hope  of 
salvation  liut  in  the  Son  of  God.*  So  it  does.  But  the  affirma- 
'ion  is  not  that  men  are  guilty  for  not  being  acquainted  with  thai 
*  Acts  iv.  12. 


Xliv  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

scheme,  but  that  they  lie  under  the  curses  of  the  antecedent  state, 
before  mentioned,  from  which  Christianity  came  to  deliver. 
The  Hindoo  suffers  and  dies  under  the  rage  of  a  burning  fever. 
The  fault  is  not  that  he  is  ignorant  of  the  virtues  of  quinine,'nor 
is  be  punished  for  this  ignorance  of  its  healing  qualities  ;  but  he 
is  lying  under  the  operation  of  the  previous  state  of  things,  from 
which  medicine  contemplates  his  rescue.  Half  the  world  are 
shut  out  from  benefits,  which  they  might  enjoy  by  being  made 
acquainted  with  the  provisions  for  their  help.  Their  sufferings 
are  not  a  punishment  for  this  want  of  knowledge.  They  are  the 
operation  of  the  system  from  which  they  might  be  delivered  by 
the  provisions  made  for  their  welfare.  How  much  suffering 
might  have  been  saved,  had  Jenner  lived  a  century  earlier.  Is 
it  contrary  then  to  the  analogy  of  nature,  to  suppose  that  men 
may  suffer  in  consequence  of  the  want  of  the  gospel,  and  even 
that  in  eternity  they  may  continue  under  the  operation  of  that 
previous  state  of  things,  to  which  the  gospel  has  never  been 
applied  to  relieve  them  ?  He  who  opposes  Christianity  because 
it"  implies  that  man  may  suffer  if  its  healing  balm  is  not  applied, 
Knows  not  what  he  says,  nor  whereof  lie  affirms.  He  is  scoff- 
ing at  the  analogy  of  the  world,  and  calling  in  question  the  wis- 
do.u  of  all  the  provisions  of  God  to  aid  suffering  man. 

3.  On  the  ground  of  man's  depravity,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
an  atonement  for  sin,  the  gospel  declares  that  without  a  change 
o!'  heart  and  life,  none  can  be  saved.*  It  affirms  that  contrition 
for  past  sins,  and  confidence  in  the  Son  of  God,  are  indispensable 
for  admission  to  heaven.  Now  we  scarce  know  of  any  point  on 
which  men  so  reluctate  as  they  do  here.  That  so  sudden,  tho- 
rough, and  permanent  a  revolution  should  be  demanded,  that  is 
should  be  founded  on  things  so  unmeaning  as  repentance  and 
faith,  that  all  men  can  enjoy  or  suffer  for  ever  should  result  from 
a  change  like  this,  they  deem  a  violation  of  every  principle  of 
justice.  And  yet,  perhaps,  there  is  no  doctrine  of  revelation 
which  is  more  strongly  favoured  by  the  analogy  of  nature.  Can 
any  one,  doubt  that  men  often  experience  a  sudden  and  most 
important  revolution  of  feeling  and  purpose?  We  refer  not  here 
to  a  change  in  religion,  but  in  regard  to  the  principles  and  the 
actions  of  common  life?  Who  is  ignorant  that  from  infancy  to 
old  age,  the  mind  passes  through  many  revolutions — that  as  we 
leave  the  confines  of  one  condition  of  our  being,  and  advance  to 
another,  a  change,  an  entire  change,  become*  indispensable,  or 
ihe  whole  possibility  of  benefiting  ourselves  by  the  new  con- 
dition is  lost.  He  who  carries  with  him  into  youth  the  playful- 
ness and  follies  of  childhood,  who  spends  that  season  of  his  life 
in  building  houses  with  cards,  or  in  trundling  a  hoop,  is  charac- 
teri/ed  by  weakness,  and  must  lose  all  the  benefits  appropriate  to 
thot  new  period  of  existence.  He  who  goes  into  middle  life 
with  a  "  bosom  that  carries  anger  as  the  flint  bears  fire" — who 
has  not  suffered  his  passions  to  cool,  and  his  mental  frame  to 
become  fixed  in  the  compactness  of  mature  and  vigorous  life 
*  John  iii.  3,  5,  36.  Mark  xvi.  16. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  X.V 

gives  a  pledge  that  the  bar,  the  bench,  or  the  desk — the  counting 
room,  the  office,  or  the  plough,  have  little  demand  for  kin  ser- 
vices., and  that  his  hopes  will  be  for  ever  blasted.  The  truth  is, 
that  at  the  beginning  of  each  of  these  periods,  there  was  a 
change  demanded — that  on  that  change  depended  all  that  fol- 
lowed in  the  next  succeeding,  perhaps  in  every  succeeding  period, 
and  that,  when  the  change  does  not  exist,  the  period  is  charac- 
terized by  folly,  indolence,  ignominy,  or  vice.  The  same  remark 
might  be  extended  to  old  age,  and  to  all  the  new  circumstances 
in  which  men  may  by  placed.  We  ask,  then,  why  some  revolu- 
tions similar  in  results-  -we  mean  not  in  nature — should  not  take 
place  in  reference  to  the  passage  from  time  to  eternity? 

But  our  argument  is  designed  to  bear  on  the  great  moral 
change  called  regeneration.  Now  no  fact,  we  think,  is  more 
common,  than  that  men  often  undergo  a  complete  transformation 
in  their  moral  character.  It  would  be  difficult  to  meet,  in  the 
most  casual  and  transitory  manner,  with  any  individual,  who 
could  not  remark  that  his  own  life  had  been  the  subject  of  many 
'.imilar  revolutions,  and  that  each  change  fixed  the  character  of 
the  subsequent  period  of  his  existence.  At  one  period  he  was 
virtuous.  Then  temptation  crossed  his  path — and  the  descrip- 
tion which  we  would  have  given  of  him  yesterday,  would  by  no 
means  suit  him  to-day.  Or  at  one  time,  he  was  profligate,  pro- 
fane, unprincipled.  By  some  process,  of  which  he  could  perhaps 
scarce  give  an  account,  he  became  a  different  man.  It  might 
have  been  gradual — the  result  of  long  thought. — of  mauy  reso- 
lutions, made  and  broken, — of  many  appeals,  of  much  weeping, 
and  of  many  efforts  to  break  away  from  his  companions.  Now, 
what  it  is  important  for  us  to  remark  is,  that  this  change  has 
given  birth  to  a  new  course  of  life,  has  initiated  him  into  a  new 
companionship,  and  has  itself  fixed  all  the  joys  or  sorrows  of  the 
coming  period  Such  revolutions  in  character  seem  like  the 
journeyings  of  the  Arabian,  wandering,  he  knows  scarcely  whi- 
ther, without  compass,  comfort,  or  food,  till  in  his  progress  he 
tomes  to  a  few  spreading  oases  in  the  desert.  His  reaching  this 
paradise  in  the  wide  waste  of  sand,  decides  of  course  the  nature 
of  his  enjoyments  till  he  has  crossed  it,  and  secures  a  release 
from  the  perils  of  the  burning  desert.  In  human  life,  we  have 
often  marked  an  ascent  to  some  such  spot  of  living  green:  we 
have  seen  the  profligate  youth  leaving  the  scene  of  dissipalion, 
and  treading  with  a  light  heart  and  quick  step  the  path  of  virtue, 
beside  cool  living  streams  and  beneath  refreshing  bowers. 
Christianity  affirms  that  a  similar  change  is  indispensable  before 
man  can  tread  the  broad  and  peaceful  plains  of  the  skies.  And 
it  affirms  that  such  a  change  will  fix  the  condition  of  all  that  new 
state  of  being, — or,  in  other  words,  will  secure  an  eternal  a  Lode 
beneath  the  tree  of  life,  and  fast  by  the  river  of  GOD.  We  wait 
to  learn  that,  in  this,  religion  has  made  any  strange  or  unrea- 
sonable demand. 

It  is  a  further  difficulty  in  Christianity,  that  it  should  make 
»uch  amazing  bliss  or  wo  dependent  on  things  of  apparently  so 


thn  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

fittle  consequence  as  repentance  and  faith.  We  shall  not  here 
attempt  to  show  the  philosophy  of  this,  or  even  to  set  up  a  vindi 
cation.  We  affirm  only  that  man's  whole  condition  in  this  life 
often  depends  on  changes  as  minute,  apparently  as  unphiloso- 
phical,  and  as  unimportant.  What  is  seemingly  of  less  conse- 
quence in  our  view,  when  we  tread  the  vale  of  years,  than  the  ? 
change  from  infancy  to  childhood — and  again  to  boyhood — and 
then  even  to  manhood — a  change  from  one  unimportant  object  to 
another  ?  What  is  often  apparently  a  matter  of  less  magnitude 
than  for  a  young  man  to  withdraw  from  some  haunt  of  pleasure 
—a  thing  requiring  but  little  resolution,  but  it  maybe  stretching 
in  its  results  to  all  his  coming  life  ?  A  change  of  an  opinion, 
or  a  habit,  or  a  companion,  may  be  often  a  most  unimportant 
circumstance ;  and  yet  it  may  determine  one's  character  for  the 
entire  life.  It  is  recorded  of  Paley,  one  of  the  acutest  and  most 
powerful  men  of  the  Christian  church,  that  he  was,  when  in 
college,  idle,  and  a  spendthrift.  One  morning  a  rich  and  dissi- 
pa'ed  fellow  student  came  into  his  room  with  this  singular 
reproof.  "  Paley,  I  have  been  thinking  what  a  fool  you  are.  1 
have  the  means  of  dissipation,  and  can  afford  to  be  idle.  You 
are  poor  and  cannot  afford  it.  /should  make  nothing  if  I  were 
to  apply  myself.  You  are  capable  of  rising  to  eminence, — and, 
pressed  with  this  truth,  I  have  been  kept  awake  during  the  whole 
night,  and  have  now  come  solemnly  to  admonish  you."  To  this 
singular  adsnonition,  and  to  the  change  consequent  upon  it 
Paley  owes  his  eminence,  and  the  church  some  of  the  ablest 
defences  of  the  truth  of  religion.  Now  who,  beforehand,  would 
have  thought  of  suspending  the  labours  of  such  a  man,  perhaps 
nis  eternal  destiny,  and  so  many  of  the  proofs  of  Christianity,  on 
a  change  wrought  in  a  manner  so  singular  and  surprising.  tf 
as  no  one  can  deny,  man's  doom  in  this  life  may  depend  on 
revolutions  of  such  a  nature,  we  are  ignorant  of  any  reason  why 
the  doom  of  another  state  may  not  \>e  fixed  by  a  similar  law. 

Perhaps  the  doctrine  which  has  appeared  to  most  infidels 
entirely  unmeaning  and  arbitrary,  is  that  which  demands  faith 
as  the  condition  of  salvation.  Repentance  is  a  doctrine  of  more 
obvious  fitness.  But  the  demand  of  faith  seems  to  be  an  arbi- 
trary and  unmeaning  appointment.  And  ye:  we  think  it  indu- 
bitable, that  on  man's  belief  depends  his  whole  conduct  and  des- 
tiny in  this  life.  What  enterprise  would  have  beer  more 
unwise  than  that  of  Columbus,  if  he  had  not  had  a  belief  that  by 
stretching  along  to  the  west,  he  might  reach  the  Indies  ?  What 
niore  foolish  than  the  conduct  of  Tell,  and  Wallace,  and  Wash- 
ington,  if  not  sustained  by  a  persuasion  that  their  country  mig«ht 
be  free  ?  What  more  ma'd  than  the  toils  of  the  young  man  bend- 
ing his  powers  to  the  acquisition  of  learning,  if  he  were  not  sus- 
tained ^  faith  in  some  yet  unpossessed  honour  or  emolument? 
What  more  frantic  than  for  the  merchant  to  commit  his  treasurer 
to  the  deep,  if  he  did  not  believe  that  prosperous  gales  would  re- 
waft  the  vessel,  laden  with  riches,  into  port?  We  might  also 
say  thai  faith,  or  confidence  in  others  is  demanded  in  every  enter- 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  xvii 

prise  that  ruan  ever  undertook,  and  is  the  grand  j  ;inciple  which 
conducts  it  to  a  happy  result.  We  need  only  ask  what  would  be 
the  condition  of  a  child,  without  faith  or  confidence  in  a  parent; 
of  a  pupil,  without  reliance  on  the  abilities  of  his  teacher ;  of  a 
subject,  distrusting  the  sovereign  ;  of  a  soldier,  doubting  the  skill 
or  prowess  of  his  commander ;  of  a  tradesman,  with  no  reliance 
on  those  whom  he  employs?  What  would  be  the  condition  of 
commercial  transactions,  if  there  were  no  established  confidence 
between  men  of  different  nations?  What  the  condition  of  arts, 
and  of  arms,  if  this  great  pervading  principle  were  at  once' cut 
off?  In  all  these  instances,  moreover,  this  principle  of  faith  is 
the  index  and  measure  of  the  aid  to  be  expected  from  others.  Is 
it  any  new  principle  that  the  child  which  has  no  confidence  in  a 
father,  usually  fails  of  his  fa\our;  or  that  the  pupil  should  fail 
vf  benefit,  if  he  doubts  the  qualifications  of  his  teacher?  And 
would  any  single  desolating  blow  so  cripple  all  enterprises,  and 
carry  such  ruin  into  the  political,  the  military,  and  the  commer- 
cial world,  as  to  destroy  the  faith  which  one  man  reposes  in 
another?  Is  it  then  a  strange  and  unknown  doctrine,  when  reli- 
gion says  that  the  most  important  benefits  are  suspended  on 
faith?  Is  it  any  thing  more  than  one  instance  of  a  general 
principle,  which  confers  peace  and  wealth  on  children  ;  learning 
on  the  scholar;  succes^s  on  the  tradesman;  liberty  on  those  who 
struggle  for  it;  and  even  laurels  and  crowns  on  those  who  pant 
in  the  race  for  honour  and  in  the  conflicts  of  war.  We  do  not 
deem  it  strange,  therefore,  that  God  should  have  incorporated 
faith  into  a  scheme  of  religion ;  and  proclaimed  from  pole  to  pole 
that  he  who  has  no  confidence  in  counsellors  and  guides,  shall 
be  without  the  benefit  of  counsel  and  guidance;  and  that  he  who 
has  no  confidence  in  the  Son  of  God,  shall  be  dissociated  from 
all  die  benefits  of  his  atonement. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  also,  that  the  faith  which  is  demanded 
in  the  business  of  life,  is  very  often  reposed  in  some  persons 
whom  we  have  never  seen.  How  few  subjects  of  any  empire 
have  ever  seen  the  monarch  by  whom  they  are  governed  ?  Nay, 
perhaps  the  man  who  holds  our  destiny  in  his  hand  may  be  on 
the  other  side  of  the  globe.  Under  his  charge  may  be  the  pro- 
perty which  we  embarked  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep;  or,  it  may 
be,  the  son  whom  we  have  committed  to  him  for  instruction. 
Mountains  may  rise,  or  oceans  roll  their  billows  for  ever  to 
separate  us;  but  the  bonds  of  faith  may  be  unsevered  by  the 
coldest  snows,  unscathed  by  the  most  burning  sun,  and  unbroken 
rtmid  all  the  rude  heavings  of  ocean,  and  the  shocks  of  nations. 
We  ask,  why  may  not  a  similar  band  stretch  toward  heaven,  and 
pe  fixed  to  the  throne  of  the  Eternal  King  ?  Is  it  more  absurd 
that  /should  place  my  confidence  in  the  unseen  monarch  of  the 
skies  whom  I  have  not  seen,  than  that  my  neighbour  should 
place  reliance  on  the  king  of  the  celestial  empire,  or  of  Britain, 
or  of  Hawaii,  alike  unseen  by  him? 

But  there  is  an  amazing  stupidity  among  men  on  the  subject 
of  religion,  and  it  cannot  be,  we  are  told,  that  God  should  make 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT. 

eternal  life  dependent  on  matters  in  which  meu  feel  so  little 
interest.  We  might  reply  to  this,  that  it  is  not  the  fault  of  God 
that  men  are  so  indifferent.  He  has  done  enough  to  arouse  them. 
If  the  thunders  of  his  law,  the  revelation  of  his  love  in  redemp- 
tion,, and  the  announcement  that  there  is  a  heaven  and  a  hell, 
are  not  adequate  to  arouse  the  faculties  of  man,  we  know  no.' 
what  further  could  be  demanded.  God  has  no  other  system  of 
wrath  to  bear  on  human  spirits ;  and  heaven  and  hell  imbosom 
RU  other  topics  of  appeal.  But  we  reply  further,  that  no  fact  is 
mere  familiar  to  us  than  that  all  men's  interests  in  life  suffer  for 
want  of  sufficient  solicitude  concerning  them.  By  mere  heed- 
lessness,  a  man  may  stumble  down  a  precipice, — nor  will  the 
severity  of  the  fall  be  mitigated  by  any  plea  that  he  was  thought- 
less of  his  danger.  Thousands  of  estates  have  been  wrecked  by 
want  of  timely  attention.  Character  is  often  ruined,  by  want 
of  proper  solicitude  in  selecting  companions.  Nay,  the  king  ot 
terrors  comes  into  our  dwellings,  perfectly  unmoved  by  "any 
inquiry  whether  we  were  awaiting  his  approach  or  not;  ami 
stands  over  our  beds,  and  wields  his  dart,  and  chills  our  life- 
Wood,  with  as  much  coolness  and  certainty  as  if  we  were  pay- 
ing the  closest  attention  to  the  evidences  of  his  approach.  And 
why  should  we  expect  that  mere  indifference,  or  want  of  anxiety, 
should  avert  the  consequences  of  crime  in  the  eternal  world  ? 

It  is  also,  we  think,  an  undoubted  dotlrine  of  the  Christian 
scheme,  that  the  great  change  required  in  man  is  ths  work  of 
God.*  And  it  is  no  small  difficulty  with  the  infidel,  that  so 
important  results  are  dependent  on  a  change  which  owes  its 
existence  to  the  will  of  a  distant  being.  Yet  we  cannot  be  insen- 
sible to  the  fact  that  all  our  mercies  hang  on  the  will  of  this 
great,  invisible  God.  When  we  say  that  the  salubrity  of  the  air, 
the  wholesomeness  of  water,  the  nutrition  of  plants,  and  the  heal- 
ing power  of  medicine,  all  owe  their  efficacy  to  his  will,  we  are 
staling  a  fact  which  physiology  is  at  last  coming  to  see  and 
acknowledge.  At  all  events,  man  does  not  feel  himself  strait- 
ened in  obligation  or  in  effort  by  the  fact  that  the  success  of  his 
exertions  depends  on  causes  unseen  and  unknown  ?  All  hut 
atheists  acknowledge  that  health  flows  through  the  frame  of 
man  because  God  is  its  giver.  Infancy  puts  on  strength  and 
walks;  childhood  advances  to  youth;  man  rises  from  a  bed  of 
sickness  ;  or  fractured  limbs  again  become  compact,  because  God 
.^its  in  the  heavens,  and  sends  down  his  influence  to  rear,  to 
strengthen,  and  to  heal.  Yet,  does  any  one  hesitate  to  put  forth 
his  energy  for  wealth,  or  his  kindness  to  his  children;  to  take 
mcd-icine,  or  to  set  a  bone,  because  all  these  will  be  inefficacious 
-.vilhuut  the  blessing  of  God?  But  in  all  this  He  is  as  invisible, 
and,  for  aught  that  Christianity  teaches  to  the  contrary,  as  traly 
efficient,  as  in  the  work  of  saving  men.  And  against  all  exor 
tion  in  these  matters,  lie  the  same  objections  that  are  urged 
3(,r,inst  efi'ec  s  in  religion. 

*  John  i.  13;  in.  5.  9  ;  Rom.  ix.  16,  18 ;  Eph.  ii.  1 ;  1  Peter  i.  3 ;  1  Jobc 
v.  1  ;  E?°k.  xi.  19;  John  vi.  44, 45. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT.  ill* 

Nor  do  we  cLem  the  doctrine  that  man  may  be  changed  sud- 
denly, and  by  an  influence  originating  from  some  other  source  than 
kis  own  mind,  at  variance  with  the  analogy  of  nature.  We  have 
already  spoken  of  the  fact,  that  sudden  changes  often  take  place 
in  the  minds  of  men;  and  that  it  is  a  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures, 
that  such  a  change  is  indispensable  to  an  admission  into  heaven. 
We  now  proceed  to  remark,  that  such  revolutions  often  bear  the 
marks  of  being  brought  about  by  an  external,  and  often  an  invi- 
sible, agency  ;  and  that  there  are  revolutions  where  it  is  not 
unphilosophical  to  ascribe  them  to  the  great  and  eternal  Being 
in  the  heavens.  Changes  of  opinion  are  almost  uniformly  (he 
result  of  an  influence  foreign  at  first  to  our  minds.  It  is  the 
parent,  the  friend,  the  advocate,  the  flatterer,  or  the  infidel,  that 
has  suggested  the  train  of  thought  which  results  in  an  entire 
revolution  in  our  ways  of  thinking.  It  is  some  external  change 
in  our  business;  some  success  or  disappointment ;  some  cutting 
offour  hopes  by  an  agency  not  our  own ;  or  some  sudden  enlarge- 
ment of  the  opportunities  for  successful  effort  that  fixes  the  pur- 
pose and  revolutionizes  the  principles  or  the  life.  Or  it  is  a  voice 
(Yom  the  tomb — the  remembered  sentiment  of  the  now  speech- 
less dead,  that  arrests  the  attention  and  transforms  the  character 
Zeno  and  Epicurus  have  thus  spoken  to  thousands  of  men  IE 
every  age.  Cicero  in  the  forum,  and  Plato  in  the  schools,  still 
put  forth  an  influence,  stretching  down  from  age  to  age,  and  in 
tongues  unspoken  by  them  and  unknown.  Voltaire  and  Hume 
still  lift  their  voices,  and  urge  the  young  to  deeds  of  shame  and 
crime,  and  Volney  and  Paine  still  mutter  from  their  graves,  and 
beckon  the  world  to  atheism  and  pollution.  Man  may  send  an 
influence  round  the  globe,  and  command  it  to  go  from  age  to 
age.  Now,  in  all  these  instances,  the  influence  is  as  foreign  and 
as  certain,  as  in  any  power  of  God  contemplated  in  revelation.  To 
our  view,  it  is  quite  as  objectionable,  as  a  part  of  moral  govern- 
ment, that  men  should  thus  dispose  each  other  to  evil,  and  ulti- 
mately to  ruin,  as  that  GOD  should  incline  them  to  an  amendment 
of  character,  and  a  deliverance  from  the  "  ills  which  flesh  is 
heir  to." 

But  how  is  man's  freedom  affected  by  all  this  ?  We  reply, 
equally  in  both  cases,  and  not  at  all  in  either.  Who  ever  felt,  that 
he  was  fettered  in  deriving  notions  of  stern  virtue  from  Seneca, 
ur  of  profligacy  from  Epicurus  ?  Who  dreams  there  is  any  coin- 
pulsatory  process  in  listening  to  the  voice  of  Hume,  or  imbibing 
the  sentiments  of  Volney?  Peter  the  hermit  poured  the  thou- 
sands of  Europe,  and  almost  emptied  kingdoms  caparisoned  for 
tattle,  on  the  plains  of  Asia.  But  he  moved  none  against  their 
will.  Patrick  Henry  struck  the  notes  of  freedom,  and  a  nation 
responded,  and  were  changed  from  subjects  of  a  British  king  to 
independent  freemen ;  but  all  were  free  in  renouncing  the  pro- 
tection of  the  British  crown,  and  their  reverence  for  a  British 
ruler.  God  influences  countless  hests,  pours  upon  darkened 
minds  the  love  of  more  than  mortal  freedom,  opens  upon  the 
souls  the  "  magnificence  of  eternity,"  and  the  renewed  multitude 

8 


1  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

tread  the  path  to  life.  Prompted  to  intense  efforts  ty  tne  voice 
that  calls  to  heaven — as  he  is  who  is  led  by  the  voice  of  bis 
country  to  the  field  of  blood,  and  who  is  chnnged  from  the  pence- 
ful  ploughman  to  the  soldier  treading  in  the  gore  of  the  slain 
they  dream  not  that  there  is  any  violation  of  their  moral  freedom 
In  all  these  cases  the  foreign  influence  exerted,  (from  whatever 
quarter  it  may  have  come,)  has  only  convinced  them  as  to  the 
path  of  duty  or  of  honour,  and  secured  a  conformity  of  their  wills, 
to  that  of  the  unseen  and  foreign  power. 

]Nor  does  it  alter  the  case,  that  in  regeneration  a  higher  influ- 
ence is  exerted  than  that  of  mere  moral  suasion,  since  that  influ- 
ence operates  in  perfect  conformity  with  the  laws  of  moral  action 
and  the  freedom  of  the  will.  In  all  the  cases  supposed,  the  mind 
acts  equally  under  the  impulse  of  a  foreign,  unseen  influence: 
and  in  all  these  cases  we  know,  by  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness, that  we  are  equally  free.  Any  objection,  therefore, 
against  the  existence  of  such  an  influence  in  regeneration,  lies 
with  equal  force  against  the  analogy  of  nature,  in  the  whole 
world  a»  mind  around  us. 

4.  Religion  affirms,  that  God  exerts  the  power  which  he  puts 
forth,  in  pursuance  of  a  plan,  or  purpose,  definitely  fixed  before 
the  foundation  of  the  world.  It  affirms  in  as  intelligible  a  form 
as  any  doctrine  was  ever  expressed  in  any  of  the  languages  of 
men,  that  in  regard  to  the  putting  forth  of  his  power  in  saving 
sinners,  there  is  no  chance,  no  haphazard  ;  that  the  scheme  lay 
before  his  eyes  fully;  and  that  b's  acts  are  only  \\\e  filling  up  of 
the  plan,  and  were  contemplated,  distinctly,  when  God  dwelt 
alone,  in  the  stillness  and  solitude  of  his  own  eternity.*  If  such 
a  doctrine  is  not  revealed,  we  think  it  impossible  that  it  could  be 
revealed  in  any  language.  And  we  knoAv  of  no  single  doctrine 
that  has  been  more  universally  conceded  by  infidels  to  be  in  the 
scriptures ;  none  in  the  Bible  that  has  been  so  often  brought  for- 
ward among  their  alleged  reasons  for  rejecting  it  as  a  revelation ; 
none  that  has  so  frequently  crossed  the  path  of  wicked  men  and 
revealed  the  secret  rebellion  of  their  hearts ;  none  that  has  called 
forth  so  much  misplaced  ingenuity  from  Socinians  and  Armi- 
nians,  and  timid  men  who  were  afraid  to  trust  the  government 
of  the  world  in  the  hands  of  its  maker,  as  if  he  were  not  qualified 
for  universal  empire ;  and  none,  therefore,  which  has  in  our  view 
such  prima  facie  proof  that  it  is  manifestly  a  doctrine  of  truth  and 
excellence.  But  the  outcry,  it  seems  to  us,  against  this  doctrine, 
has  been  altogether  gratuitous  and  unwise.  For  who  is  a 
stranger  to  the  fact,  that,  from  infancy  to  old  age,  we  are  more 
or  less  influenced  by  the  plans  or  purposes  of  others  ?  The  plan 
or  purpose  of  a  parent  may  determine  almost  every  thing  abouf 
the  destiny  of  a  child.  The  purpose  to  remove  from  regions  of 
pestilence  and  malaria,  may  secure  his  health  ;  the  change  from 
one  clime  to  another  may  determine  the  liberty  he  shall  enjoy 
the  measure  of  his  intelligence,  the  profession  he  shall  choose, 

ictfph.  i.  4,  5.  R^n.  viii.  29,  30;  is.  15,  16,  18,  21.  John  xvii.  2. 
aThe*»  ii.  13.  Join.  .;.  --29.  2  Tin. '.  9. 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT.  L 

and  ultimately  his  doom  here  and  hereafter.  Nay,  the  parent's 
vlan  may  h'x  the  very  college  where  he  shall  study ;  the  com- 
panions he  shall  choose;  the  law  office,  or  the  seminary  where 
he  shall  prepare  for  professional  life;  and  finally  every  thing 
which  may  establish  his  sou  in  the  world.  So  the  plan  of  the 
infidel  is  successful  in  corrupting  thousands  of  the  young; — the 
purpose  of  Howard  secured  the  welfare  of  thousands  of  prisoners ; 
the  determination  of  Washington  resulted  in  the  independence  of 
his  country.  In  all  these,  and  ten  thousand  other  cases  there  is 
&  plan  formed  by  other  beings  in  respect  to  us  which  finally  enters 
a  5  a  controlling  clement  into  our  destiny.  If  it  be  said,  that  they 
all  leave  us  free ;  so  we  say  of  the  decrees  of  God,  that  we  have 
a  like  consciousness  of  freedom.  In  neither  case  does  the  foreign 
purj>ose  cripple  or  destroy  our  freedom.  In  neither  case  does  it 
make  any  difference  whether  the  plan  was  formed  an  hour  before 
the  act,  or  has  stood  fixed  for  ages.  All  that  could  bear  on  our 
freedom  would  be  the  fact,  that  the  purpose  was  previous  to  the 
deed — a  circumstance-  that  does  not  alter  the  act  itself,  whether 
the  decree  be  formed  by  ourselves,  by  other  men,  or  by  God. 

But  we  remark  further,  that  it  is  perfectly  idle  to  object  to  the 
fact,  that  a  plan  or  decree  is  contemplated  in  revelation;  and  that 
God  should  confer  benefits  on  some  individuals  which  are  with- 
held from  others.  Did  any  man,  in  his  senses,  ever  dream  that 
the  race  are  in  all  respects  on  an  equality  ?  Has  there  ever  been 
a  time,  when  one  man  has  had  just  as  much  health  as  another ; 
when  one  has  been  as  rich  as  another,  or  as  much  honoured  ?  To 
talk  of  the  perfect  equality  of  men,  is  one  of  the  most  unmeaning 
of  all  affirmations  respecting  the  world.  God  has  made  differ- 
ences, is  still  making  them,  and  will  continue  to  do  so.  The  very 
frame  work  of  society  is  organized  on  such  a  principle,  that  men 
cannot  be  all  equal.  Even  if  the  scheme  of  modern  infidelity 
should  be  successful — if  all  society  should  be  broken  up  ;  and  all 
property  be  meted  out  in  specific  dollars  and  cents  to  the  idle  and 
the  industrious  alike ;  and  every  man  should  lose  his  interest  in  his 
own  wife  and  daughter,  and  they  should  become  the  common 
inheritance  of  the  \vorld,  and  all  law  should  be  at  an  end — if  this 
scheme  should  go  into  disastrous  accomplishment,  what  princi- 
ple of  perpetuity  could  there  be  devised  ?  Who  knows  not  that 
such  a  chaotic  mass  would  settle  down  into  some  kind  of  order, 
and  men  be  put  in  possession  again  of  property,  and  some  of  the 
benefits  of  social  life  be  again  restored  ?  Man  might  better 
attempt  to  make  all  trees  alike,  and  all  hills  plains,  and  all  foun- 
tains of  the  same  dimensions,  than  to  attempt  to  level  society, 
and  bring  the  race  into  entire  equality.  To  the  end  of  time  it 
will  be  true  that  some  will  be  poor  while  others  are  rich  ;  that 
Eome  will  be  sick  while  others  are  well ;  that  some  will  be  en- 
dowed with  gigantic  intellects,  and  enriched  with  ancient  and 
modern  learning,  while  others  will  pine  in  want,  or  walk  the 
humble,  but  not  ignoble  vale  of  obscurity. 

Now  we  might  as  well  object  to  this  fixed  economy  of  things. 
is  to  that  which  affirms  that  God  dispenses  the  blessings  or 


Ill  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAT. 

redemption  according  to  his  good  pleasure.  If  God  may  confei 
one  blessing  on  one  individual  which  he  withholds  from  another 
we  ask  why  he  may  not  be  a  sovereign  also  in  the  dispensation 
of  other  favours  ?  We  ask  what  principle  of  justice  and  good 
ness  is  violated,  if  he  imparts  penitence  and  faith  to  one  indi« 
vidual,  that  is  not  violated  also  if  he  gives  him  health  while 
another  pines  in  sickness  ?  We  ask  with  emphasis,  where  is 
there  more  of  partiality  in  giving  the  Christian's  hope  to  Brai- 
nerd  or  Martyn,  than  there  is  in  giving  great  talents  to  Newton 
or  great  wealth  to  Croesus  ?  And  we  put  it  to  the  sober  thoughts 
of  those  who  are  so  fond  of  representing  the  doctrine  that  God 
bestows  special  grace  on  one  and  not  on  another,  as  unjust, 
tyrannical,  and  malignant,  whether  they  are  not  lifting  their  voice 
against  the  manifest  analogy  of  nature,  and  all  the  facts  in  the 
moral  and  material  world  ?  We  ask  such  a  man  to  tread  the 
silent  streets  of  one  city  where  the  pestilence  spreads  its  desola- 
tions, and  then  another  filled  with  the  din  of  business,  and  flushed 
with  health  and  gain — to  go  through  oneJand  and  see  the  fields 
smile  with  golden  grain,  and  rich  with  the  vine  and  the  orange, 
or  fragrant  with  aromatics,  and  then  through  another  where  the 
heavens  are  brass,  and  the  earth  dust,  and  every  green  thing 
withers,  and  every  man  weeps  while  the  horrors  of  famine  stare 
him  in  the  face  ;  to  ago  amidst  one  people  and  hear  the  clangor 
of  arms,  or  another  and  see  the  squalidness  of  poverty,  or  another 
and  see  every  river  studded  with  villages,  and  every  village 
pointing  its  spire  to  heaven,  and  universal  peace  in  all  its  borders, 
and  education  diffusing  its  blessings  there — such  observers  we 
ask  to  tell  us  whether  the  destiny  of  all  men  is  equal,  and  why  in 
religion  God  may  not  do  as  he  does  in  respect  to  health,  to  free- 
dom, and  to  law? 

We  go  further.  We  affirm,  that  unless  this  doctrine  of  elec- 
tion were  found  in  the  scriptures,  the  scheme  would  be  taken  out 
from  all  the  analogy  of  the  world.  No  man  could  recognise  a 
feature  of  the  plan  on  which  God  actually  governs  the  universe, 
unless  he  found  there  the  distinct  affirmation  that  God  had 
chosen  us  in  Christ  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  that 
it  is  "  not  of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of 
God  that  showeth  rnercy."  The  system  of  conferring  favours  as 
he  pleases;  of  giving  wealth,  and  vigour  and  talent,  and  success, 
is  so  much  a  matter  of  sovereignty,  and  the  secret,  who  shall 
possess  these  endowments,  is  so  completely  lodged  in  his  bosom 
that  any  scheme  to  be  conformed  to  the  constitution  and  course 
of  nature,  must  recognise  this  great  principle,  or  we  are  shut  up 
to  the  alternative,  that  the  present  doings  of  God  are  wrong,  or 
the  constitution  of  nature  one  of  decisive  evil.  To  us  it  seems, 
therefore,  that  they  strike  a  blow  of  no  ordinary  violence  an  j 
boldness,  who  denounce  the  purposes  of  God  in  the  Bible  as 
dark,  partial,  and  malignant.  Nor  can  we  conceive  a  more  rude 
assault  on  the  whole  frame-work  of  things,  than  the  popular 
scheme  which  denies  that  God  has  any  purposes  of  special 
mercy;  and  that  he  confers  any  spiritual  blessings  on  one  which 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  liil 

he  does  not  on  all, — or,  in  other  words,  which  attempts  to  sepa- 
rate the  scheme  of  redemption  from  the  whole  analogy  of  things 
actually  carried  on  in  the  world. 

But  on  this  point  the  entire  movement  of  the  world  bears  the 
marks  of  being  conducted  according  to  a  plan.  We  defy  a  man 
to  lay  his  finger  on  a  fact,  which  has  not  such  a  relation  to  other 
facts  as  to  show  that  it  is  part  of  a  scheme — and  if  of  a  scheme, 
hen  of  a  purpose  formed  beforehand.  Alexander  the  Great,  in  the 
vigour  ot  life,  and  in  the  full  career  of  conquest,  was  cut  off  by 
the  act  of  God.  Julian  the  apostate,  in  the  same  regions  found 
also  an  early  death,  and  gigantic  plans  were  arrested  by  the  hand 
of  God  with  reference  to  other  great  purposes  in  the  liberty  or 
religion  of  man.  Napoleon  met  the  mighty  arm  of  God  in  the 
snows  of  the  north,  and  the  monarch  fell — and  with  him  fell  the 
last  purpose  of  his  life.  In  the  midst  cf  daring  schemes,  man 
often  falls.  God  wields  the  dart  to  strike  in  an  unusual  manner, 
and  the  victim  dies.  He  falls  in  with  the  great  plans  of  the 
Deity,  meets  snows,  or  lightnings,  or  burning  heats,  or  piercing 
colds  that  come  round  by  the  direction  of  the  governor  of  the 
world,  and  the  man  sinks,  and  his  plans  give  way  to  the  higher 
purposes  of  the  Almighty. 

Now  we  know,  that  at  any  particular  stage  of  this  process  we 
could  not  discover  that  there  was  a  plan  or  a  scheme.  And  we 
know  also  that  all  the  objections  to  such  a  scheme,  result  from 
looking  at  single  portions  of  the  plan, — parts  dissociated  from  the 
whole.  In  this  world  we  think  there  is  this  universal  principle 
to  be  discovered ;  APPARENT  IRREGULARITY,  RESULTING  IN  ULTI- 
MATE ORDER.  During  any  one  of  the  six  days  of  creation  we 
should  scarcely  have  seen  even  the  outlines  of  the  world  that  ulti- 
mately started  up.  Fix  the  eye  on  any  single  hour  of  the  state 
of  the  embryo,  the  egg,  or  the  chrysalis,  and  who  would  suppose 
there  was  any  plan  or  purpose  with  reference  to  the  man  of  god- 
like form  and  intelligence;  or  the  beauty  of  the  peacock,  the  speed 
of  the  ostrich,  the  plaintive  melody  of  the  nightingale,  or  the 
gay  colours  of  the  butterfly  ?  We  might  illustrate  this  "ully  by 
a  reference  to  the  process  of  digestion.  Who  would  sjppose 
from  the  formation  of  the  chyle,  that  there  was  any  thing  like  a 
plan  laid  to  supply  a  red  fluid,  or  to  give  vigour  to  sinews,  or 
firmness  to  the  bones?  So  in  all  the  works  of  God.  We  are 
not  surprised  that  unthinking  men  have  doubted,  whether  God 
had  a  plan  or  decree.  So  unlike  the  termination  is  the  actual 
process,  and  so  little  apparent  reference  is  there  to  such  a  ter- 
mination, that  we  are  not  amazed  that  men  start  back  at  the 
annunciation  of  a  decree.  The  truth  is,  that  God  has  laid  the 
process  of  his  plan  and  decrees  much  deeper  than  his  common 
acts.  They  require  more  patient  thought  to  trace  them — they 
are  more  remote  and  abstruse — and  they  cannot  be  seen,  with- 
out embracing  at  once  the  commencement  and  termination,  and 
the  vast  array  of  improbable  media  by  which  the  result  is  to  be 
secured.  Yet  to  deny  that  God  has  a  plan ;  that  his  plan  may 
\>e  expressed  by  the  word  purpose  or  decree,  is  as  absurd  as  to 


liV  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

deny  that  the  emhryo  is  formed  with  reference  to  thfi  future  man, 
or  the  chyle  to  future  blood,  muscles,  ai.d  bones.  Who  in  look- 
ing ipon  a  complicated  piece  of  machinery  would  suppose  thai 
a  plan  was  in  operation  tending  to  the  manufacture  of  cloth,  ot 
the  propelling  of  vessels,  or  the  minuter  works  of  art?  What 
strikes  the  eye,  is  a  collection  of  wheels  moving  without  appa- 
rent order.  Two  wheels  shall  be  beside  each  other  moving  in 
contrary  directions;  yet  all  shall  ultimately  combine  to  the  pro- 
duction of  the  contemplated  result.  Thus  move  the  events  of 
the  world  ;  and  so  apparently  irregular  and  unharmojiious,  but 
ultimately  fixed  and  grand  are  the  ways  of  God.  As  in  a  rapid, 
swollen  stream,  while  the  current  rolls  onward,  here  and  there 
may  be  observed  in  the  heaving  waters,  a  small  portion  that 
seems  to  be  setting  in  a  contrary  direction  —  an  eddy  that 
revolves  near  the  shore,  or  that  fills  the  vacancy  made  by  some 
projecting  tree  or  neck  of  land,  yet  all  setting  towards  the  ocean ; 
so  roll  on  the  great  events  in  God's  moral  and  material  universe 
— setting  onwards  towards  eternity  in  furtherance  of  a  plan 
awful,  grand,  benevolent. 

We  had  intended  to  have  noticed  more  fully  the  grand,  peculiar 
doctrine  of  the  gospel — the  Trinity.  But  we  have  room  only  to  say, 
that  if/  in  the  formation  of  man — in  the  structure  of  his  mental 
and  corporeal  powers,  and  in  their  junction — if,  in  a  being  so  con- 
stantly before  our  eyes,  subjected,  without  material  change,  from 
age  to  age,  to  observation, — to  the  penetration  of  the  most  keen- 
sighted  physiologists  ;  open  to  every  analysis  which  the  metaphy- 
sician or  the  anatomist  may  choose  to  make;  if,  ip  the  organ- 
ization of  such  a  being,  there  are  mysteries  which  elude  every 
eye,  and  mock  every  attempt  at  reconciliation,  we  do  not  think 
that  religion  is  dealing  out  absurdities,  when  it  tells  of  analogous 
depths  in  the  unseen,  inapproachable,  and  infinite  God.  Let  the 
union  of  the  soul  and  body  be  explained — the  junction  of  a  sub- 
stance, ponderable,  mortal,  inactive,  corruptible,  and  thought- 
less, with  one  where  there  is  nothing  but  thought — an  invisi- 
ble, imponderable,  intelligible,  incorruptible,  and  unmeasurable 
substance,  having  relation  neither  to  sight,  nor  hearing,  nor 
feeling,  nor  that  we  know  of  to  place, — and  yet  taking  hold 
by  some  invisible  fixtures  to  the  heavy  organization,  and  direct- 
ing all  its  movements,  and  receiving  its  own  emotions  from  the 
variations  of  the  outward  tenement:  let  all  this  be  explained, 
and  we  think  we  shall  be  ready  to  advance  wi'h  the  explanation 
to  any  difficulty  of  structure  in  the  divine  mind.  Nay,  further, 
when  we  look  at  the  animal  frame  itself,  we  are  met  with  diffi- 
culties of  a  kindred  nature,  which  set  all  our  faculties  at  defiance. 
There  is  a  system  of  bones — complete  in  itself — an  entire  anato- 
mical figure,  which  may  be  taken  out  and  completed  by  itself — 
there  is  a  system  of  arteries  complete,  and  as  capable  of  distinct 
contemplation; — there  is  the  counterpart,  an  entire  structure  of 
arteries  reversed,  comprising  the  venous  system ;  there  is  an 
almost  independent  organization  of  nerves,  which,  but  for  their 
frail  texture,  could  be  taken  out,  looked  at  also  apart;  and  there 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  Jr 

is.  an  absolute  set  of  muscles  which  could  be  set  up  by  themselves, 
an  i  separately  surveyed, — and  yet  these  different  systems  are 
driven  together  into  the  most  compact  form  ;  made  to  unite  as 
friendly  brethren,  and  cemented  and  bound,  so  as  to  make  up  the 
frame-work  of  man.  Now,  we  affirm,  that  if  these  different  in- 
dependent systems  are  thus  made  to  dwell  in  a  single  frame  ; — 
if  we  have  no  conception  of  a  man  without  all  this  complication, 
and  scarcely  with  i/,  that  a  revelation  could  be  scarcely  credible, 
unless  there  were  some  analogous  difficulties  ir.  the  being  of  a 
God.  In  his  mysteries,  man  is  the  image  of  Gcd,  not  less  than 
tn  his  dominion,  and  in  the  original  moral  image  which  he  bore. 
A  large  field  is  still  open  on  which  we  can  make  but  a  passing 
remark — we  mean  the  analogy  of.  the  latvsof  Christianity  to  those 
suggested  by  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature.  If  our  re 
marks  have  been  correct,  then  it  is  fair  to  expect  that  religion 
would  reveal  such  a  set  of  laws  as  should  be  in  accordance  with 
the  course  of  nature — that  is,  such  as  the  actual  order  of  events 
should  show  to  be  conducive  to  the  true  interest  and  welfare  of 
man.  We  think  it  could  be  shown  that  the  actual  process  of 
things,  has  conducted  mankind,  after  the  shedding  of  much  blood, 
and  after  many  toils  of  statesmen  and  sages,  to  just  the  set  of 
rules  which  are  found  for  human  conduct  in  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments.  And  it  would  be  no  uninteresting  speculation  to 
inquire  into  the  changes  in  opinions  and  laws  suggested  by  the 
history  of  events  among  nations — to  see  how  one  set  of  enact- 
ments struck  out  by  the  toils  of  some  philosopher,  and  applied  by 
some  moralist  or  statesman,  were  persevered  in  until  set  aside 
by  some  opposingevent  in  the  government  of  God,  and  exchanged 
for  a  belter  system,  for  one  more  in  accordance  with  the  course 
of  nature — until  the  revolutions  of  centuries,  have  brought  men 
to  the  very  laws  of  the  scriptures,  and  the  profoundest  wisdoia 
has  been  ascertained  to  be,  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
and  receive  the  law  from  his  lips.  We  might  remark  on  the  law 
of  theft  in  Lacedasmon;  on  the  views  in  relation  to  rapine  and 
war;  on  the  seclusion  from  the  world  which  guided  the  Essene 
of  Judea,  and  the  monk  of  the  early  and  middle  ages;  on  the 
indulgence  of  passion,  recommended  by  the  Epicureans ;  on  the 
annihilation  of  sensibility,  the  secret  of  happiness,  among  the 
.Stoics ;  on  the  law  of  universal  selfishness,  the  panacea  of  all 
numan  ills  recommended  by  infidelity  ;  and  on  the  laws  of 
honour  that  have  guided  so  many  men  to  fields  of  'disgrace  and 
biood,  and  filled  so  many  dwellings  with  weeping.  In  all  th« 
iliilerent  codes,  we  think  AVC  could  show  that  the  course  of  nature 
has  ultimately  driven  men  from  one  set  of  laws  to  another,  from 
one  experiment  to  another,  until  every  scheme  terminated  in  its 
abandonment,  or  in  shaping  itself  to  the  peculiar  laws  of  the 
iSible.  But  on  this  point,  which  is  capable  of  very  ample  illus- 
tration, we  can  do  no  more  than  simplv  point  out  the  principle. 
in  tho  words  of  a  distinguished  writer  of  our  own  country.*  We 
raake  one  extract  from  a  sermon  of  high  originality  of  thought. 
*  President  Waylaud. 


lYl 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 


power  of  argument,  and  beauty  of  diction,  entitled  "  The  certaa 
triumph  of  the  Redeemer." 

'•  The  laws  of  matter  are  few  and  comparatively  simple,  bul 
those  relations  are  multiplied  even  to  infinity.  The  law  of  gra- 
vitation may  be  easily  explained  to  an  ordinary  man,  or  even  to 
an  intelligent  child.  But  who  can  trace  one  half  of  its  relations 
to  things  solid  and  fluid,  things  animate  and  inanimate,  the  very 
form  of  society  itself,  to  this  system,  other  systems,  in  fine,  to 
the  mighty  masses  of  the  material  universe?  The  mind  delights 
to  carry  out  such  a  principle  to  its  ramified  illustrations,  and 
hence  it  cherishes  as  its  peculiar  treasure,  a  knowledge  of  the 
principles  themselves.  Thus  was  it  that  the  discovery  of  such 
a  law  gave  the  name  of  Newton  to  immortality,  reduced  to  har- 
mony the  once  apparently  discordant  movements  of  our  planetary 
system,  taught  us  to  predict  the  events  of  coming  ages,  and  to 
explain  what  was  before  hidden  from  the  foundation  of  the  world. 

"  Now  he  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  examine,  will  perceive 
in  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  a  system  of  ultimate  truths  in 
morals  in  a  very  striking  manner  analogous  to  these  elementary 
laws  in  physics.  In  themselves  they  are  few,  simple,  and 
easily  understood.  Their  relations,  however,  as  in  the  other 
case,  are  infinite.  The  moral  principle  by  which  you  can  easily 
teach  your  child  to  regulate  her  conduct  in  the  nursery,  will  fur- 
nish matter  for  the  contemplation  of  statesmen  and  sages.  It 
is  the  only  principle  on  which  the  decisions  of  cabinets  and 
courts  can  be  founded,  and  is,  of  itself,  sufficient  to  guide  the 
diplomatist  through  all  the  mazes  of  the  most  intricate  negocia- 
tion.  Let  any  one  who  pleases  make  the  experiment  for  him- 
self. Let  him  take  one  of  the  rules  of  human  conduct  which  the 
gospel  prescribes,  and,  having  obtained  a  clear  conception  of  it, 
iust  as  it  is  revealed,  let  him  carry  it  out  in  its  unshrinking 
application  to  the  doings  and  dealings  of  men.  At  first,  if  he  be 
not  accustomed  to  generalizations  of  this  sort,  he  will  find  much 
that  will  stagger  him,  and  perhaps  he  will  be  led  hastily  to 
decide  that  the  ethics  of  the  Bible  were  never  intended  for  prac- 
tice. But  let  him  look  a  little  longer,  and  meditate  a  little  more 
intensely,  and  expand  his  views  a  little  more  widely,  or  become, 
either  by  experience  or  by  years,  a  little  older,  and  he  will  more  and 
more  wonder  at  the  profoundness  of  wisdom,  and  the  universality 
of  application  of  the  principles  of  the  gospel.  With  the  most 
expanded  views  of  society,  he  can  go  nowhere  where  the  Bible 
Iras  not  been  before  him.  With  the  most  penetrating  sagacity 
he  can  make  no  discovery  which  the  Bible  has  not  long  ago  pro- 
mulgated. He  will  find  neither  application  which  the  Bible  did 
aol  foresee,  nor  exception  against  which  it  has  not  guarded.  He 
will  at  last  sink  down  in  humble  adoration  of  the  wisdom  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  convinced  that  he  is  the  wisest  man,  as  well 
as  the  profoundest  philosopher,  who  yields  himself  up  in  meek- 
ness and  simplicity  of  spirit  to  the  teachings  of  the  Saviour. 
Hence,  there  is  the  same  sort  of  reason  to  believe  that  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  Bible  will  be  read,  and  studied,  and  oDeyed,  as  there 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  Ivil 

is  to  believe  that  the  system  of  Newton  will  finally  prevail,  and 
eventually  banish  from  the  languages  of  men  the  astronomical 
dreams  of  Vishnu  and  Pandama." 

We  now  take  our  leave  of  the  Analogy  of  Butler.  We  have 
endeavoured  to  state  the  nature  of  the  argument  on  which  it 
rests.  We  would  say,  in  conclusion,  that  it  is  one  of  easy  and 
universal  application.  We  know  of  no  argument  that  is  so 
potent  to  still  the  voice  of  unbelief  in  the  heart- -to  silence  every 
objection  to  all  the  doctrines  of  Christianity — or  to  subdue  the 
soul,  to  an  humble,  reverential  belief,  that  the  God  of  creation  is 
the  God  of  redemption ;  and  that  he  who  clothes  the  sunbeam 
with  light,  and  the  flower  with  its  beauty,  is  the  same  all-present 
being,  that  goes  forth  to  the  grander  work  of  delivering  the  soul 
from  sin.  As  God  will  continue  the  process  of  his  government, 
as  he  will  make  the  genial  shower  to  rise  and  fertilize  the  earth, 
as  he  will  clothe  the  hills  and  vales  with  verdure  and  beauty,  de- 
spite of  all  the  blasphemies  of  men ;  as  he  will  cause  new  flowers 


to  spring  forth,  however  many  the  foot  of  hard-hearted  man  may 

sh,  and  as  he  will  cause  the  glory  of  1 
on  from  age  to  age,  in  spite  of  all  the  opposition  and  malice  of 


ind  as  he  will  cause  the  glory  of  the  material  svstem  to  roll 


devils  and  of  men,  so,  we  believe,  he  will  also  cause  this  more  glo- 
rious system  to  ride  triumphantly  through  the  earth,  and  to  shed  its 
blessings  on  all  the  nations  of  the  world.  Man  can  triumph  over 
neither.  They  are  based  on  the  solid  rock.  The  plans  of  men 
reach  them  not.  Parallel  systems  of  providence  and  redemplion, 
liable  to  the  same  objections,  and  presenting  the  same  beauties, 
testify  that  they  have  come  from  the  same  God,  and  are  tending 
to  the  same  high  developement. 

We  are  of  the  number  of  those  who  do  not  shrink  from  avow- 
ing the  opinion  that  the  system  of  Christianity,  as  it  has  been 
held  in  the  world,  is  capable  of  progressive  improvements  in  the 
mode  of  its  exhibition.  This  system,  in  the  mind  of  the  Son  of 
God,  Avas  complete,  and  was  so  given  to  mankind.  But  we  think 
that  the  Avorld  has  not  yet  availed  itself  fully  of  the  scheme. 
No  earthly  being  ever  yet  so  well  understood  the  laws  of  the 
aiind,  as  the  Son  of  God ;  and  the  system,  as  held  by  him,  was 
adapted  to  the  true  nature  of  created  spirits,  and  to  the  regular 
course  of  things.  But  Christianity  has  often  been  attached  to 
schemes  of  mental  and  moral  philosophy  as  remote  from  the  true 
one  as  "from  the  centre  thrice  to  the  utmost  pole."  Now,  the 
improvement  which  we  anticipate  is,  that  men  will  consent  to 
lay  aside  their  systems  of  mental  science;  and  with  them  much 
also  of  the  technicalities  of  their  theology — and  suffer  religion  to 
speak  in  the  words  expressive  of  what  Locke  calls  "  large  round- 
about sense,"  that  they  will  be  willing  to  inquire  first  what  phi- 
losophy religion  teaches,  and  then  ask,  if  they  choose,  whether 
<hat  philosophy  is  to  be  found  in  the  schools.  Could  all  the 
obstructions  in  the  way  of  correct  mental  philosophy  and  natural 
science,  be  at  once  removed,  we  have  no  doubt  that  the  Christian 
system  would  be  seen  to  fall  at  once  into  the  scheme  of  material 
and  mental  things  Now  this  is  the  kind  of  improvement  which 
8* 


Iviil  INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY. 

we  expect  will  take  place  in  theology.  An  analogy  could  never 
be  established  between  theology,  as  it  has  been  held,  and  tin 
common  course  of  events.  Religion,  as  it  has  been  often  pre« 
sented,  has  been  unlike  all  other  things — so  cold,  distant,  unliving, 
and  formal,  that  we  wonder  not  that  men,  who  have  had  tolera- 
bly correct  notions  of  the  laws  of  the  mind  and  of  facts,  should 
have  shrunk  from  it;  nor  do  we  wonder  that  the  preaching  of 
no  small  number  of  ministers  should  have  been  fitted  to  make 
men  Arminians,  Socinians,  or  deists. 

We  have  sat  down  in  pensive  grief,  when  we  heard  from  the 
lips  of  tyros  in  divinity,  (as  the  first  message  which  they  bring 
us,)  solemn  and  unmeasured  denunciations  of  reason  in  matters 
of  religion.  We  have  asked  ourselves  whence  the  herald  has 
derived  his  commission  to  commence  an  assault  on  what  has 
been  implanted  in  the  bosom  of  man  by  the  hand  of  the  Al- 
mighty? Has  the  book  which  he  holds  in  his  hands  told  him  to 
utter  unfeeling  and  prescriptive  maledictions  on  all  just  views 
of  mental  operations?  Has  God  commissioned  him  to  summon 
the  world  to  a  rejection  of  all  the  lessons  taught  by  the  investi- 
gations of  the  mind  ;  the  decisions  of  conscience,  and  the  course 
of  events  ?  Is  the  God  who  has  hitherto  been  thought  to  be  the 
God  of  creation  and  providence,  coming  forth,  in  the  old  age  and 
decrepitude  of  the  world,  to  declare  that  the  fundamental  princi 
pies  of  civil  society,  the  judicial  inflictions  of  his  hand,  the  les- 
sons taught  us  in  parental  and  filial  intercourse,  and  in  the  rea- 
sonings of  sober  men  with  the  eye  upturned  to  heaven,  have  all 
been  delusive;  and  that  the  new  revelation  is  to  set  at  defiance 
all  that  has  been  ascertained  to  be  law,  and  all  that  the  world  has 
supposed  to  be  just  maxims  in  morals?  We  marvel  not  that 
thinking  men  shrink  from  such  sweeping  denunciations.  Nor 
do  we  wonder  that  the  ministry  is  often  despised,  the  sanctuary 
forsaken,  and  the  day-dreams  of  any  errorist  adopted,  who  pro- 
fesses  to  give  them  proper  place  to  the  inferences  drawn  from 
the  government  of  God. 

It  is  a  maxim,  we  think,  which  should  rule  in  the  hearts  of 
Christian  men,  and 

"  Most  of  all  in  man  that  ministers, 
And  serves  the  altar," 

that  the  world  is  to  be  convinced  that  Christians  are  not  of  nfca> 
sity  fools.  And  in  doing  this,  we  care  not  how  much  of  sound 
reason,  and  true  philosophy,  and  the  analogies  of  nature,  are 
brought  into  the  sacred  desk.  The  truth  is,  that  religion  sets  up 
its  jurisdiction  over  all  the  operations  of  the  mind.  And  the 
truth  is,  also,  that  those  who  have  done  most  to  vilify  and  abuse 
the  use  of  reason,  have  been  the  very  men  who  have  incorpoiated 
the  most  of  false  philosophy  into  their  own  systems  of  divinity. 
It  is  not  to  be  concealed,  that  the  most  ardent  desire  of  the  ene« 
mies  of  religion  is  that  its  ministers  and  friends,  should  deal  on' 
fierce  denunciations  against  reason,  and  set  up  the  system  oi 
Christianity  as  something  holding  in  fixed  defiance  all  the  disco- 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  ill 

venes  of  knowledge  and  all  the  schemes  of  philosophy.  More 
than  half  the  work  of  atheism  is  done,  if  the  world  can  be  per- 
suaded that  Christianity  contemplates  the  surrender  of  the 
deductions  of  reason  and  the  course  of  the  world  into  the  hands 
of  infidel  philosophers  ;  nor  do  we  know  a  more  successful  arti- 
fice of  the  enemy  of  man  than  the  schemes  which  have  been 
devised  to  effect  such  a  disjunction,  and  to  set  up  the  Christian 
plan  as  something  that  stands  in  irreconcilable  opposition  to  tlie 
course  of  nature,  and  the  just  process  of  ihought.  x 

But,  if  the  view  which  we  have  taken  of  this  matter  is  correct, 
then  all  the  works  of  God,  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  and  far  on 
beyond,  are  in  strict  accordance  with  the  Christian  scheme. 
One  set  of  laws  rules  the  whole  ;  one  set  of  principles  reigns 
everywhere;  one  grand  system  of  administration  is  going  for- 
ward. Apparent  differences  between  the  Christian  scheme  and 
the  course  of  events  are  daily  becoming  rarer,  and  soon  the 
whole  will  be  seen  to  harmonize.  The  laws  of  mental  action 
are  becoming  better  understood  ;  and  are  found  to  coincide  more 
and  more  with  the  plain,  unperverted  declarations  of  the  Bible. 
The  laws  of  nations  are  growing  more  mild,  tender,  bloodless, 
and  forbearing.  The  great  principles  of  morals  are  laying  aside 
the  ferocity  of  the  darker  ages,  disrobing  themselves  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Goth  and  the  Vaudal,  and  returning  more  and  more 
to  the  simplicity  of  primeval  life  —  to  the  principles  of  Abraham, 
"  that  beauteous  model  of  an  eastern  prince,  of  David  the  war- 
rior poet,  of  Daniel  the  far-sighted  premier,  of  Paul  the  mild  yet 
indomitable  apostle,  and  of  Jesus  the  meek  Son  of  God." 

"We  anticipate  that  the  order  of  events,  and  the  deductions  of 
reason,  and  the  decisions  of  the  gospel,  will  yet  be  found  com- 
pletely to  tally  :  so  that  Christianity  shall  come  armed  with  the 
double  power  of  having  been  sustained  by  miracles  when  first 
promulgated  and  when  appearing  improbable,  and  of  falling  in 
at  last  with  all  the  proper  feelings  and  just  views  of  the  world. 
As  one  evidence  that  the  world  is  hasting  to  such  a  juncture  we 
remark  that  the  views  entertained  of  moral  character  have  under- 
gone already  a  transformation.  "What  mother  would  now 
train  her  sons  after  the  example  of  Achilles,  and  Hector,  and 
Agamemnon,  and  Ulysses?"  Other  models,  more  like  the  Son 
of  God,  are  placed  before  the  infant  mind.  Society,  in  its  vast 
revolutions,  has  brought  itself  into  accordance,  in  this  respect, 
with  the  New  Testament.  And  we  cannot  but  doubt  that, 
though  the  affairs  of  the  church  and  the  world  may  yet  flow  on 
in  somewhat  distinct  channels,  yet  they  will  finally  sink  into 
complete  and  perfect  harmony;  like  two  streams  rising  in  dis- 
cant  hills,  and  rendering  fertile  different  vales,  yet  at  last  flowing 
into  the  bosom  of  the  same  placid  and  beautiful  ocean.  Men 
will  go  on  to  make  experiments  in  geology,  and  chymistry,  and 
philosophy,  in  order  to  oppose  the  Bibie,  till  scheme  after  scheme 
shall  be  abandoned.  The  will  frame  t 


will  frame  theories  of  mental  s 
antil  they  arrive  at  the  scheme  of  the  New  Testament.     They 
will  devise  modes  of  alleviating  misery,  until  they  fall  on  the 


IX  INTKODUCTOKT   ESSAY. 

very  plan  suggested  more  than  two  thousand  years  oefore  them 
And  they  will  form  and  abandon  codes  of  morals,  until  they  shall 
come  at  last  in  their  international  and  private  affairs,  to  the 
moral  maxims  of  the  New  Testament — and  the  world  shall 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  the  highest,  wisdom  is  to  set  down 
like  children  at  the  feet  of  the  Son  of  God. 

And  we  may  perhaps  be  permitted  here  to  suggest  that  Chi  is 
tianily  contains  a  provision  for  a  perpetuity  of  prcof  that  it  \i 
from  God.  *We  think  it  is  idle  to  doubt  that  the  evidence  from 
miracles  is  more  feeble  now  than  it  was  when  the  proofs  of  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  were  poured  with  such  resistless  might  en 
the  Roman  empire.  We  mean  that  a  missionary  now,  with  al] 
the  zeal  of  martyrdom,  has  not  with  him  the  resistlessness  of 
evidence  for  an  ancient,  which  the  apostles  had  for  a  contempo- 
raneous fact.  It  is  more  difficult  for  us  to  prove  the  existence 
of  Alexander  of  Macedon  than  it  could  have  been  for  Tacitus  or 
Cicero.  But  we  ask  why  miracles  were  necessary  at  all  ?  It 
was  simply  because  the  analogy  of  the  new  scheme  to  the  course 
of  nature  was  not  obvious  and  commanding.  There  appeared  to 
be  an  irreconcilable  difference.  Opinions,  practices,  systems, 
not  fully  tried  and  abandoned,  opposed  it.  It  was  necessary  to 
beat  down  their  opposition  by  some  signal  display  of  infinite 
power.  It  was  done.  And  not  a  system  stood  before  the  mira 
culous  scheme.  But  as  these  schemes  give  way— as  they  are 
found  to  be  useless  and  are  abandoned — as  society  converges 
more  and  more  to  the  simplicity  in  the  New  Testament,  and  as 
therefore  religion  commends  itself  to  the  understanding.?  of  men, 
and  falls  in  with  the  true  analogies  of  things,  there  is  provision  for 
the  increasing  feebleness  of  the  evidence  from  miracles — and  in 
other  ages  all  the  evidence  that  shall  be  needed  of  its  truth,  may 
be  the  simple  parallelism  between  this  and  all  the  works  anil 
plan  of  God.'  If  the  comparison  may  not  seem  far  drawn,  the 
strength  of  the  evidence  arising  from  the  junction  of  the  system 
of  nature  and  of  grace,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  intense  heat  of 
the  Compound  blow-pipe — the  blazing  and  resistless  energy  pro- 
duced by  the  proper  union  of  two  independent  elements,  bearing 
on  a  single  point. 

And  here  we  conclude  by  saying  that  the  men  who  promul- 
gated this  system  were  Galilean  peasants  and  fishermen.  They 
had  indubitably,  little  learning.  They  were  strangers  to  the  doc- 
trines of  the  schools,  to  ancient  and  modern  science,  to  the  works 
of  nature  and  of  art.  No  infidel  can  prove  that  they  knew  more 
than  the  science  necessary  for  the  skilful  management  of  a  fish- 
ing boat,  or  the  collection  of  taxes.  And  yet  they  have  devised 
the  only  scheme  which  turns  out  to  be  in  accordance  with  the 
course  of  nature;  a  scheme  which  has  survived  the  extinction 
of  most  others  prevalent  in  their  day.  a  system  in  advance  still, — 
no  one  can  tell  how  much,— even  of  our  own  age.  Now  it  is  a 
well-known  fact  that,  in  the  progress  of  discovery  hitherto,  no 
man  has  gone  much  in  advance  of  his  own  generation.  Society 
and  science  work  themselves  into  a  state  for  th«  discoveries 


INTRODUCTORY  ESSAY.  Irf 

which  actually  take  place,  and  hence  it  happens  that,  about  the 
same  time,  the  same  invention  is  often  made  on  both  sides  of 
the  globe.  A  controversy  still  exists  respecting  the  discovery  of 
the  art  of  printing,  and  gunpowder,  the  application  of  steam,  the 
invention  of  the  quadrant,  and  many  of  the  improvements  in 
chymistry.  We  ask  then,  how  it  has  happened  that  the*e  Gali- 
leans stepped  over  all  the  science  of  their  own  age,  established  a 
system  in  strict  accordance  with  the  course  of  nature,  disclosed 
elementary  principles  of  morals  entirely  unknown  to  the  philo- 
sophy of  that  age,  and  arrived  at,  in  the  history  of  man,  only  by 
long  and  painful  experiments  of  many  thousand  years?  Why, 
let  the  sceptic  tell  us,  has  not  science  struck  out  principle  after 
principle,  that  could  long  since  have  been  organized  into  a  sys- 
tem which  should  accord  with  the  constitution  and  course  of 
nature  ?  To  our  minds,  the  greatest  of  all  miracles  would  be, 
th'at  unaided  and  uninspired  fishermen  should  have  projected 
such  a  scheme  of  Christianity. 

Revealed  religion,  then,  is  in  accordance  with  the  course  of 
nature.  To  reason  against  or  reject  it,  on  the  principles  com- 
monly adopted  by  infidels,  is  to  call  in  question  the  whole  system 
of  things  around  us.  Nor  will  it  answer  any  valuable  purpose 
to  laugh  or  mock  at  it.  "  There  is  argument  neither  in  drollery 
nor  in  jibe."  If,  in  spite  of  this  striking  accordance  with  the 
course  of  nature,  it  can  be  proved  false,  let  the  evidence  be  fairly 
brought  forward.  Let  its  miracles  be  set  aside.  Let  its  pro- 
phecies be  shown  not  to  have  been  uttered.  And  then  let  it  be 
shown  how  it  is  that  such  a  system  has  originated  from  such  a 
source ;  a  system  which  has  bowed  the  intellects  of  such  men 
as  Bacon  and  Locke  and  Boyle  and  Hale  and  Boerhaave,  ana 
Newton  and  Edwards  and  Dwight.  But  if  the  demonstration 
cannot  be  made  out, — if  a  single  doubt  remains,  it  will  not  do  to 
deride  this  religion.  It  will  no  more  do  to  meet  the  announce- 
ment of  hell  with  a  jeer,  than  to  stand  and  mock  at  convulsions, 
fevers,  and  groans; — nor  should  men  laugh  at  the  judgment,  any 
more  than  at  the  still  tread  of  the  pestilence,  or  the  heavings  of 
the  earthquake; — nor  will  it  be  at  all  more  the  dictate  of  wis- 
dom to  contemn  the  provisions  of  redemption  than  to  mock  the 
pitying  eye  of  a  father,  or  to  meet  with  contempt  the  pensive 
sigh  of  a  mother  over  our  sufferings,  or  to  jeer  at  the  physician 
who  comes  reverently,  if  it  may  be,  to  put  back  from  us  the 
Ueavy-pressing  hand  of  God. 


-ms,  and  of  his  method  of  applying  reasonings  drawn  from  Analogy 
to  the  Subject  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion,  deserves  the  marked 


SAMUEL  HALIFAX,  D.D., 
LATE    LORD    BISHOP    OP    GLOUCESTER. 

[The  following  prefatory  analysis  of  Butler's  Mnral  and 
Systems,  and  of  his  methc  ' 
)  the  Subject  of  Natura 
O.tentLm  of  the  student.] 

IN  some  editions,  this  preface  is  preceded  by  a  few  pages, 
designed  to  shield  Bishop  Butler's  characler  against  the 
charge  of  superstition  ;  placing  too  much  stress  on  rites  and 
ceremonies  in  religion :  a  tendency  to  substitute  penances 
and  forms  in  the  room  of  Christianity.  We  have  omitted 
these  pages  as  they  are  in  no  way  connected  with  this  work, 
and  add  nothing  to  its  interest  or  value.  There  seems,  how- 
ever, to  have  been  no  just  grounds  for  such  a  calumny. 
Bishop  Butler,  like  many  good  men  of  the  present  age,  was 
deeply  affected  by  the  growing  indifference  of  the  mass  of  the 
people  to  religious  duties  and  observances ;  and  in  his  pri- 
mary charge  to  the  Clergy  of  his  Diocese  in  1751,  he  boldly 
asserted  the  usefulness  of  forms  and  rites  addressed  to  the 
senses  as  aids  to  devotion  and  piety :  a  charge,  which,  at  the 
time,  gave  very  general  offence  to  the  Church,  and  which, 
taken  in  connection  with  some  other  facts  in  the  history  of 
this  good  man's  life,  formed  the  stuff,  out  of  which  the  alle- 
gations, we  have  referred  to,  were  manufactured  several 
years  after  his  death. 

It  is  painful  to  think  so  little  of  the  moral  and  religious 
workings  of  the  mind  of  this  great  man  is  known.  We 
would  gladly  know  something  definitely  of  his  intellectual 
and  spiritual  life,  during  the  twenty  years  of  study  and  pre- 
paration devoted  to  the  composition  of  The  Analogy ;  from 
the  first  rude  conception  of  the  work,  until  it  came  forth  from 
nis  hands,  like  the  statue  from  the  mallet  and  chisel  of  the 
•culptor  finished,  ad  ungem.  Every  sentence,  it  is  said,  hw 


been  fashioned  and  moulded  into  the  present  form  by  repeated 
re-writing  and  condensation.  And  we  can  easily  believe  it, 
for  the  words  are  laid  together  in  many  sentences  so  closely 
and  skilfully,  that  one  more,  or  one  less,  would  destroy  the 
unity  and  meaning  of  the  whole. 

The  literary  reputation  of  Bishop  Butler,  however,  is  in 
truth  the  least  of  his  excellencies.  He  was  more  than  a 
good  writer  :  he  was  a  good  man  ;  and  what  is  an  addition 
even  to  this  eulogy,  he  was  a  sincere  Christian.  His  whole 
study  was  directed  to  the  knowledge  and  practice  of  sound 
morality  and  true  religion  j  these  he  adorned  by  his  life,  and 
has  recommended  to  future  ages  in  his  writings ;  in  which, 
if  my  judgment  be  of  any  avail,  he  has  done  essential  service 
to  both,  as  much,  perhaps,  as  any  single  person,  since  the 
extraordinary  gifts  of  "  the  word  of  wisdom  and  the  word 
of  knowledge"*  have  been  withdrawn. 


In  what  follows  I  propose  to  give  a  snort  account  of  the 
Bishop's  moral  and  religious  systems,  as  these  are  collected 
from  his  works. 

I.  His  way  of  treating  the  subject  of  morals  is  to  be 
gathered  from  the  volume  of  his  Sermons,  and  particularly 
from  the  three  first,  and  from  the  preface  to  that  volume. 

"  There  is,"  as  our  author  with  singular  sagacity  has  ob- 
served, "  a  much  more  exact  correspondence  between  the 
natural  and  moral  world,  than  we  are  apt  to  take  notice  of."f 
The  inward  frame  of  man  answers  to  his  outward  condition  ; 
the  several  propensities,  passions,  and  affections,  implanted 
in  our  hearts  by  the  Author  of  nature,  are  in  a  particular 
manner  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  life  in  which  he 
hath  placed  us.  This  general  observation,  properly  pursued, 
leads  to  several  important  conclusions.  The  original  inter- 
nai  constitution  of  man,  compared  with  his  external  condi- 
tion, enables  us  to  discern  what  course  of  action  and  be- 
havior that  constitution  leads  to,  what  is  our  duty  respect- 
ing that  condition,  and  furnishes  us  besides  with  the  most 
powerful  arguments  to  the  practice  of  it. 

What  the  inward  frame  and  constitution  of  man  is,  is  a 
question  of  fact  j  to  be  determined,  as  other  facts  are,  from 
experience,  from  our  internal  feelings  and  external  senses 

«  1  Cor.  xii.  8.  f  serm.  TI. 


BY    THE    EDITOR.  8 

and  from  the  testimony  of  others.  Whether  human  nature, 
and  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is  placed,  might  not  have 
been  ordered  otherwise,  is  foreign  to  our  inquiry,  and  none 
of  our  concern.  Our  province  is,  taking  both  of  those  as 
they  are,  and  viewing  the  connexion  between  them,  from 
that  connexion  to  discover,  if  we  can,  what  course  of  action 
is  fi.  ted  to  that  nature  and  those  circumstances.  From  con- 
templating the  bodily  senses,  and  the  organs  or  instruments 
adapted  to  them,  we  learn  that  the  eye  was  given  to  see 
with,  the  ear  to  hear  with.  In  like  manner,  from  consider- 
ing our  inward  perceptions  and  the  final  causes  of  them.  w«e 
collect  that  the  feeling  of  shame,  for  instance,  was  given  to 
prevent  the  doing  of  things  shameful ;  compassion,  to  carry 
us  to  relieve  others  in  distress  ;  anger,  to  resist  sudden  vio- 
lence offered  to  ourselves.  If,  continuing  our  inquiries  in 
this  way,  it  should  at  length  appear,  that  the  nature,  the 
whole  nature  of  man  leads  him  to,  and  is  fitted  for,  that  par- 
ticular course  of  behaviour  which  wre  generally  distinguish- 
ed by  the  name  of  virtue,  we  are  authorized  to  conclude, 
that  virtue  is  the  law  we  are  born  under,  that,  it  was  so  in- 
tended by  the  Author  of  our  being  ;  and  we  are  bound  by 
the  most  intimate  of  all  obligations,  a  regard  to  our  own 
high  interest  and  happiness,  to  conform  to  it  in  all  situations 
and  events. 

Human  nature  is  not  simple  and  uniform,  but  made  up 
of  several  parts ;  and  we  can  have  no  just  idea  of  it  as  a 
system  or  constitution,  unless  we  take  into  our  view 
the  respects  and  relation  which  these  parts  have  to  each 
other.  As  the  body  is  not  one  member,  but  many  ;  ST 
our  inward  structure  consists  of  various  instincts,  appetites, 
and  propensions.  Thus  far  there  is  no  difference  between 
human  creatures  and  brutes.  But  besides  these  common 
passions  and  affections,  there  is  another  principle  pecu- 
liar to  mankind,  that  of  conscience,  moral  sense,  reflection, 
call  it  whr,t  you  please,  by  which  they  are  enabled  to  review 
their  whole  conduct,  to  approve  of  some  actions  in  them- 
selves, and  to  disapprove  of  others.  That  this  principle  will 
of  course  have  some  influence  on  our  behaviour,  at  least  at 
times,  will  hardly  be  disputed  ;  but  the  particular  influence 
vvuich  it  ought  to  have,  the  precise  degree  of'power  in  the 
regulating  of  our  internal  frame  that  is  assigned  it  by  Kirn 
who  placed  it  there,  is  a  point  of  the  utmost  consequence  in 
itself,  and  on  the  determination  of  which,  the  very  hinge  of 
our  Author's  Moral  System  turns.  If  the  faculty  here  spo- 


4  PREFACE 

ken  of  be,  indeed,  what  it  is  asserted  to  be,  in  nature  and 
kind,  superior  to  every  other  passion  and  affection  ;  if  it  be 
given,  not  merely  that  it  may  exert  its  force  occasionally,  01 
as  our  present  humour  or  fancy  may  dispose  us,  but  that  it 
may  at  all  times  exercise  an  uncontrollable  authority  and 
government  over  all  the  rest ;  it  will  then  follow,  that,  in  or- 
der to  complete  the  idea  of  human  nature  as  a  system,  ye 
must  not  only  take  in  each  particular  bias,  propension,  in- 
stinct, which  are  seen  to  belong  to  it,  but  we  must  add.  be- 
sides, the  principle  of  conscience,  together  with  the  subjec- 
tion that  is  due  to  it  from  all  the  other  appetites  and  passions ; 
just  as  the  idea  of  a  civil  constitution  is  formed,  not  barely 
from  enumerating  the  several  members  and  ranks  of  which 
it  is  composed,  but  from  these  considered  as  acting  in  vari- 
ous degrees  of  subordination  to  each  other,  and  all  under 
the  direction  of  the  supreme  authority,  whether  that  authori- 
ty, be  vested  in  one  person  or  more. 

The  view  here  given  of  the  internal  constitution  of  man, 
and  of  the  supremacy  of  conscience,  agreeable  to  the  con- 
ceptions of  Bishop  Butler,  enables  us  to  comprehend  the 
force  of  that  expression,  common  to  him  and  the  ancient 
moralists,  that  virtue  consists  in  following  nature.  The 
meaning  cannot  be,  that  it  consists  in  acting  agreeably  to 
that  propensity  of  our  nature  which  happens  to  be  the  stron- 
gest ;  or  which  propels  us  towards  certain  objects  without  any 
regard  to  the  methods  by  which  they  are  to  be  obtained;  but 
the  meaning  must  be,  that  virtue  consists  in  the  due  regulation 
and  subjection  of  all  the  other  appetites  and  affections  to  the 
superior  faculty  of  conscience  ;  from  a  conformity  to  which 
alone  our  actions  are  properly  natural,  or  conespondent  to 
the  nature,  to  the  whole  nature,  of  such  an  agent  as  man. 
From  hence  too  it  appears,  that  the  Author  of  our  frame  is 
by  no  means  indifferent  to  virtue  and  vice,  or  has  left  us  at 
liberty  to  act  at  random,  as  humour  or  appetite  may  promp 
us  ;  but  that  every  man  has  the  rule  of  right  within  him  \ 
a  nic  attended  in  the  very  notion  of  it  with  authority,  and 
such  as  has  the  force  of  a  direction  and  a  command  from 
Him  who  made  us  what  we  are,  what  course  of  behaviour 
is  suited  10  our  nature,  and  which  he  expects  that  we  should 
follow.  This' moral  faculty  implies  also  a  presentiment  and 
apprehension,  that  the  judgment  which  it  passes  on  our  ac- 
tions, considered  as  of  good  or  ill  desert,  will  hereafter  be 
confirmed  by  the  unerring  judgment  of  God  ;  when  virtue 
and  happiness,  vLce  and  misery,  whose  ideas  are  now  B<- 


1JV    THE    EtlTOlt.  5 

closely  connected,  shall  be  indissolubly  united,  find  the  divine 
government  be  found  to  correspond  in  the  most  exact  propor- 
tion to  the  nature  he  has  given  us.  La&tly,  this  just  preroga- 
tive or  supremacy  of  conscience  it  is,  which  Mr  Pope  has 
described  in  his  Universal  Prayer,  though  pt,  haps,  he  may 
have  expressed  it  rather  too  strongly  where  ne  says, 

'  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done 

Or  warns  me  not  to  do, 
This  teach  me  more  than  hell  to  shun, 

That,  more  than  heaven  pursue.' 

The  reader  will  observe,  that  this  way  of  treating  tho 
subject,  of  morals,  by  an  appeal  to  facts,  does  not  at  all  inter- 
fere with  that  other  way,  adopted  by  Dr  Samuel  Clarke  and 
others,  which  begins  with  inquiring  into  the  relations  and 
fitness  of  things,  but  rather  illustrates  and  confirms  it.  That 
there  are  essential  differences  in  the  qualities  of  human  ac- 
tions, established  bynature,and  that  this  natural  difference  of 
things,  prior  to  and  independent  of  all  ivill,  creates  a  natural 
fitness  in  the  agent  to  act  agreeably  to  it,  seems  as  little  to 
be  denied,  as  that  there  is  the  moral  difference  before  explain- 
ed, from  which  we  approve  and  feel  a  pleasure  in  what  is 
right,  and  conceive  a  distaste  to  what  is  wrong.  Still,  how- 
ever, when  we  are  endeavoring  to  establish  either  this  mo- 
ral or  that  natural  difference,  it  ought  never  to  be  forgotten, 
or  rather  it  will  require  to  be  distinctly  shown,  that  both  of 
these,  when  traced  up  to  their  source,  suppose  an  intelligent 
Author  of  nature,  and  moral  ruler  of  the  world  ;  who  ori- 
ginally appointed  these  differences,  and  by  such  an  appoint- 
ment has  signified  his  will  that  we  should  conform  to  them, 
4s  the  only  effectual  method  of  securing  our  happiness  on  the 
whole  under  hi.s  government.*  And  of  this  consideration  oiu 
prelate  himself  was  not  unmindful ;  as  may  be  collected 
from  many  expressions  in  different  parts  of  his  writings, 
and  particularly  from  the  following  passages  in  his  Xltli 
Sermon.  '  It  may  be  allowed,  without  any  prejudice  to  the 
cause  of  virtue  and  religion,  that  our  ideas  of  happiness  find 
miser}7  aie,  of  all  our  ideas,  the  nearest  and  most  important 
to  us  ;  that,  they  will,  nay,  if  you  please,  that  they  ought 
to  prevail  over  those  of  order,  and  beauty,  and  harmony,  and 
proportion,  if  there  should  ever  be,  as  it  is  impossible  there 
ever  should  be,  any  inconsistence  between  them '  And 

*  See  note  E,  at  the  end  of  this  Preface. 


again,  '  Though  virtue  or  moral  rectitude  does  indeed,  con 
sist  in  affection  to  and  pursuit  of  \vhat  is  right  and  good,  as 
such  ;  yet,  when  we  sit  down  in  a  cool  hour,  we  can  neither 
justify  to  ourselves  this  or  any  other  pursuit,  till  we  are  con- 
vinced that  it  will  be  for  our  happiness,  or  at  least  not  con- 
trary to  it.'* 

Besides  the  general  system  of  morality  opened  above,  cur 
Author,  in  his  volume  of  Sermons,  has  stated  with  accuracy 
the  difference  between  self  love  and  benevolence  ;  in  oppo- 
sition '.o  those  who,  on  the  one  hand,  make  the  whole  of 
virtue  to  consist  in  benevolence,"]"  and  to  those  who,  on  the 
other,  assert  that  every  particular  affection  and  action  is  re- 
solvable into  self-love.  In  combating  these  opinions,  he  has 
shown,  I  think,  unanswerably,  that  there  are  the  same  kind 
of  indications  in  human  nature,  that  we  were  made  to  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  others,  as  that  we  were  made  to  pro- 
mote our  own  ;  that  it  is  no  just  objection  to  this,  that  we 
have  dispositions  to  do  evil  to  others  as  well  as  good ;  for  wre 
have  also  dispositions  to  do  evil  as  well  as  good  to  ourselves, 
to  our  own  most  important  interests  even  in  this  life,  for  the 
sake  of  gratifying  a  present  passion  ;  that  the  thing  to  be 
lamented  is,  not  that  men  have  too  great  a  regard  to  their 
o\\  n  real  good,  but  that  they  have  not  enough  ;  that  bene- 
volence is  not  more  at  variance  with,  or  unfriendly  to,  self- 
love,  than  any  other  particular  affection  is  ;  and  that  by  con- 
sulting the  happiness  of  others  a  man  is  so  far  from  lessen- 
ing' his  own,  that  the  very  endeavour  to  do  so  though  he 
should  fail  in  the  accomplishment,  is  a  source  of  the  high- 
est satisfaction  and  peace- of  mind.J  He  has  also,  in  pas- 
sing, animadverted  on  the  philosopher  of  Malmsbury,  who, 
in  his  book  '  Of  Human  Nature,'  has  advanced,  as  discove- 
ries in  moral  science,  that  benevolence  is  only  the  love  of 
power,  and  compassion  the  fear  of  future  calamity  to  our- 
selves. And  this  our  Author  has  done,  not  so  much  with 
the  design  of  exposing  the  false  reasoning  of  Mr  Hobbes, 
but  because  on  so  perverse  an  account  of  human  nature  he 
has  raised  a  system,  subversive  of  all  justice  and  honesty. § 

II.  Tne  religious  system  of  Bishop  Butler  is  chiefly  tc 
he  collected  from  the  treatise,  entitled,  '  The  Analogy  n* 

*  Serm.  XL 

t  See  the  2d  Dissertation  '  On  the  Nature  of  Virtue.' 

J  See  Serm.  i.  and  si.  and  the  Preface  to  the  Volume  of  SOTTOOM. 

f  See  the  notes  to  Serin,  i.  and  v. 


BY    THE    EDITOR.  7 

Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed,  to  the  Constit  ition  and 
Course  of  nature.' 

'  All  things  are  double  one  against  another,  ond  God  halt 
made  nothing  imperfect.'*  On  I  his  single  observation  of 
the  Son  of.Sirach,  the  whole  fabric  of  our  prelate's  defence 
of  religion,  in  his  Analogy,  is  raised.  Instead  of  indulging 
in  idle  speculations,  how  the  world  might  possibly  have 
been  better  than  it  is  ;  or,  forgetful  of  the  difference  between 
hypothesis  and  fact,  attempting  to  explain  the  divine  econo- 
my with  respect  to  intelligent  creatures,  from  preconceived 
notions  of  his  own  ;  he  first  inquires  what  the  constitution 
of  nature,  as  made  known  to  us  in  the  way  of  experiment, 
actually  is  ;  and  from  this,  now  seen  and  acknowledged,  he 
endeavours  to  form  a  judgment  of  that  larger  constitution, 
which  religion  discovers  to  us.  If  the  dispensation  of  Pro- 
vidence'we  are  now  under,  considered  as  inhabitants  of  this 
world,  and  having  a  temporal  interest  to  secure  in  it,  be 
found,  on  examination,  to  be  analogous  to,  and  of  n  piece 
with  that  further  dispensation,  which  relates  to  us  as  design- 
ed for  another  world,  in  which  we  have  an  eternal  interest, 
depending  on  our  behaviour  here  ;  if  both  may  be  traced  up 
to  the  same  general  laws,  and  appear  to  be  carried  on  ac- 
cording to  the  same  plan  of  administration  ;  the  fair  pre- 
sumption is,  that  both  proceed  from  one  and  the  same  Au- 
thor. And  if  the  principal  parts  objected  to  in  this  latter 
dispensation  be  similar  to,  and  of  the  same  kind  with  what 
we  certainly  experience  under  the  former  ;  the  objections, 
being  clearly  inconclusive  in  one  case,  because  contradicted 
by  plain  fact,  must,  in  all  reason,  be  allowed  to  be  inconclu- 
sive also  in  the  other. 

This  way  of  arguing  from  what  is  acknowledged  to  what 
is  disputed,  from  things  known  to  other  things  that  resemble 
them,  from  that  part  of  the  divine  establishment  which  is 
exposed  to  our  view  to  that  more  important  one  which  lip« 
oeyond  it,  is  on  all  hands  confessed  to  be  just.  By  this  me- 
thod Sir  Isaac  Newton  has  unfolded  the  system  of  nature  ; 
oy  the  same  method  Bishop  Butler  has  explained  the  svs- 
tem  of  grace  ;  and  thus,  to  use  the  words  of  a  writer,  whom 
I  quote  with  pleasure,  '  has  formed  and  concluded  a  happy 
alliance  between  faith  and  philosophy .'| 

And  although  the  argument  from  analogv  be  allowed  to 
oe  imperfect,  and  by  no  means  sufficient  to  solve  all  diffioul- 

'Eccle'j.  s!iL24 

t  Mr  Mair.waring's  Eia-.ertaliou,  prefixed  lo  his  Volume  of  Sermon*. 


lies  respecting  the  government  of  God,  and  the  designs  of 
n:s  providence  with  regard  to  mankind  ;  (a  degree  of  knowl 
eJge,  which  we  are  not  furnished  with  faculties  for  attain 
ing,  at  least  in  the  present  state ;)  yet  surely  it  is  of  impor- 
tance to  learn  from  it,  that  the  natural  and  moral  world  are 
intimately  connected,  and  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole,  or 
system;  and  that  the  chief  objections  which  are  brought 
against  religion,  may  be  urged  with  equal  force  against  tho 
constitution  and  course  of  nature,  where  they  are  certainly 
false  in  fact.  And  this  information  we  may  derive  from  tho 
work  before  us  ;  the  proper  design  of  which,  it  may  be  of 
use  to  observe,  is  not  to  prove  the  truth  of  religion,  either 
natural  or  revealed,  but  to  confirm  that  proof, already  known, 
by  considerations  from  analogy. 

After  this  account  of  the  method  of  reasoning  employed 
by  our  Author,  let  us  now  advert  to  his  manner  of  applying 
it,  first,  to  the  subject  of  Natural  Religion,  and,  secondly,  to 
that  of  Revealed. 

1.  The  foundation  of  all  our  hopes  and  fears  is  a  future 
life  ;  and  with  this  the  treatise  begins.  Neither  the  reason 
of  the  thing,  nor  the  analogy  of  nature,  according  to  Bishop 
Butler,  give  ground  for  imagining,  that  the  unknown  event, 
death,  will  be  our  destruction.  The  states  in  which  we  have 
formerly  existed,  in  the  womb  and  in  infancy,  are  not  more 
different  from  each  other  than  from  that  of  mattire  age  in 
«  hich  we  now  exist  j  therefore,  that  we  shall  continue  to 
exist  hereafter,  in  a  state  as  different  from  the  present  as  tho 
present  is  from  those  through  which  we  have  passed  alrea- 
dy, is  a  presumption  favored  by  the  analogy  of  nature.  All 
that  we  know  from  reason  concerning  death,  is  the  effects  it 
has  upon  animal  bodies  ;  and  the  frequent  instances  among 
men,  of  the  intellectual  powers  continuing  in  high  health 
and  vigour,  at  the  very  time  when  a  mortal  disease  is  on  the 
point  of  putting  an  end  to  all  the  powers  of  sensation,  induce 
us  to  hope  that  it  may  have  no  effect  atall  on  the  human  soul, 
not  even  so  much  as  to  suspend  the  exercise  of  its  faculties  ; 
though  if  it  have,  the  suspension  of  a  power  by  no  means  im- 
plies its  extinction,  as  sleep  or  a  swoon  may  convince  us.* 

The  probability  of  a  future  state  once  granted,  aa  impor- 
tant question  arises,  How  best  to  secure  our  interest  in  that 
state  ?  We  find  from  what  passes  daily  before  us,  that  the 
constitution  of  nature  admits  of  misery  as  well  as  happiness ; 

•  Part  L  chap,  1. 

fe 


I3Y    THE    EDITOR. 


that  both  of  these  are  the  consequences  of  our  own  actions, 
mid  Ihese  consequences  we  aie  enabled  to  foresee.  There- 
fore,  that  our  happiness  or  misery  in  a  future  world  may  de- 
pend on  our  own  actions  also,  and  that  rewards  or  punish- 
ments hereafter  niay  follow  our  good  or  ill  behaviour  here,  ia 
but  an  appointment  of  the  same  sort  with  what  we  expe- 
rience under  the  divine  government,  according  to  the  regular 
course  of  nature.* 

This  supposition  is  confirmed  from  another  circumstance, 
that  the  natural  government  of  God,  under  which  we  now 
live,  is  also  moral ;  in  which  rewards  and  punishments  are 
the  consequences  of  actions,  considered  as  virtuous  and 
vicious.  Not  that  every  *man  is  rewarded  or  punished  here 
in  exact  proportion  to  his  desert ;  for  the  essential  tendencies 
of  virtue  and  vice,  to  produce  happiness  and  the  contrary, 
are  often  hindered  from  taking  effect  from  accidental  causes. 
However,  there  are  plainly  the  rudiments  and  beginnings  of 
a  righteous  administration  to  be  discerned  in  the  co.  stitution 
of  nature  ;  from  whence  we  are  led  to  expect,  that  these  ac- 
cidental hindrances  will  one  day  be  removed,  and  the  rule  of 
distributive  justice  obtain  completely  in  a  more  perfect  state.y 

The  moral  government  of  God,  thus  established,  implies  in 
'the  notion  of  it  some  sort  of  trial,  or  a  moral  possibility  of  act- 
ing wrong  as  well  as  right,  in  those  who  are  the  subjects  of 
it.  And  the  doctrine  of  religion,  that  the  present  life  is  in 
fact  a  state  of  probation  for  a  future  one.  is  rendered  credible 
from  its  being  analogous  throughout  to  the  general  conduct 
of  Providence  towards  us  with  respect  to  this  world  ;  in 
which  prudence  is  necessary  to  secure  our  temporal  interest, 
just  as  we  arc  taught  that  virtue  is  necessary  to  secure  our 
eternal  interest :  and  both  are  trusted  to  ourselves.  J 

But  the  present  life  is  not  merely  a  state  of  probation,  im- 
plying in  it  difficulties  and  danger,  it  is  also  a  state  of  disci- 
pline and  improvement :  and  that,  both  in  our  temporal  and 
religious  capacity.  Thus,  childhood  is  a  state  of  discipline 
for  youth ;  youth  for  manhood ;  and  that  for  old  age.  Strength 
of  body,  and  maturity  of  understanding,  are  acquired  by  de- 
grees :  and  neither  of  them  without  continual  exercise  and 
attention  on  our  part,  not  only  in  the  beginning  cf  life,  but 
through  the  whole  course  of  it.  So,  again,  with  respect  to 
DUI  religious  concerns,  the  present  world  is  fitted  to  be,  and 

*  Chap.  2      .,       t  Chap.  3.  \  Part  i.  chap.  4. 


10  PREFACE 

to  good  mon  is  an  event,  a  state  of  discipline  and  improve 
ment  for  a  future  one.  The  several  passions  and  propensions 
implanted  in  our  hearts,  incline  us,  in  a  multitude  of  instan- 
ces, to  forbidden  pleasures  ;  this' inward  infirmity  is  increa- 
sed by  various  snares  and  temptations,  perpetually  occurring 
from  "without :  hence  arises  the  necessity  of  recollection  and 
self-government,  of  withstanding  the  calls  of  appetite,  and 
forming  our  minds  to  habits  of  piety  and  virtue  ;  habits  of 
which  we  are  capable,  and  which,  to  creatures  in  a  state  of 
moral  imperfection,  and  fallen  from  their  original  integrity, 
must  be  of  the  greatest  use,  as  an  additional  security,  over 
tnd  above  the  principle  of  conscience,  from  the  dangers  to 
which  we  arc  exposed.* 

Nor  is  the  credibility  here  given,  by  the  analogy  of  nature, 
to  the  general  doctrine  of  religion,  destroyed  or  weakened  by 
any  notions  concerning  necessity.  Of  itself  it  is  a  mere 
word,  the  sign  of  an  abstract  idea  ;  and  as  much  requires  an 
agent,  that  is,  a  necessary  agent,  hi  order  to  effect  any  thing 
as  freedom  requires  a  free  agent.  Admitting  it  to  be  specu- 
latively  true,  if  considered  as  influencing  practice,  it  is  the 
same  as  false  :  for  it  is  matter  of  experience,  that,  with  re- 
gard to  our  present  interest,  and  as  inhabitants  of  this  worldj 
we  are  treated  as  if  we  were  free ;  and  therefore  the  analo- 
gy of  nature  leads  us  to  conclude,  that,  with  regard  to  oui 
future  interest,  and  as  designed  for  another  world,  we  shall 
be  treated  as  free  also.  Nor  does  the  opinion  of  necessity 
supposing  it  possible,  at  all  affect  either  the  general  proof  of 
religion,  or  its  external  evidence.")' 

Still  objections  may  be  made  against  the  wisdom  and  good 
ness  of  the  divine  government,  to  which  analogy,  which  car 
only  show  the  truth  or  credibility  of  facts,  affords  no  answer 
Yet  even  here  analog}-  is  of  use,  if  it  suggest  that  the  di- 
vine government  is  a  scheme  or  system  and  not  a  numbei 
of  unconnected  acts,  and  that  this  system  is  also  above  oui 
comprehension.  Now,  the  government  of  the  natural  world 
appears  to  be  a  system  of  this  kind  ;  with  parts-,  related  to 
each  other,  and  together  composing  a  whole  :  in  which  sys- 
tem, ends  are  brought  about  by  the  use  of  means,  many  of 
which  means,  before  experience,  would  have  been  suspected 
to  have  had  a  quite  contrary  tendency ;  which  is  carried  on 
by  general  laws,  similar  causes  uniformly  producing  similai 
effects ;  the  utility  of  which  general  laws,  and  the  inconve- 

t  Fort  L  Chap.  6. 


BT   THE    EDITOR.  II 

niences  which  would  probably  arise  from  the  occasional  or 
even  secret  suspension  of  them,  we  are  in  some  sort  enabled 
to  discern  ;*  but  of  the  whole  we  are  incompetent  judges, 
because  of  the  small  part  which  comes  within  our  view. 
Reasoning:  then  from  what  we  know,  it  is  highly  credible, 
that  the  government  of  the  moral  world  is  a  system  also  car- 
tied  on  by  general  laws,  and  in  which  ends  are  accomplish- 
ed by  the  intervention  of  means  ;  and  that  both  constitu 
tioiits,  the  natural  and  the  moral,  are  so  connected,  as  to  form 
together  but  one  scheme.  But  of  this  scheme,  as  that  of 
the  natural  world  taken  alone,  we  are  not  qualified  to  judge 
on  account  of  the  mutual  respect  of  the  several  parts  to  each 
other  and  to  the  whole,  and  our  own  incapacity  to  survey 
the  whole,  or,  with  accuracy,  any  single  part.  All  objec- 
tions, therefore,  to  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  divine 
government  may  be  founded  merely  on  our  ignorance  ;|  and 
to  such  objections  our  ignorance  is  the  proper,  and  a  satis- 
factory answer.  J 

2.  The  chief  difficulties  concerning  Natural  Religion  bs- 
ing  now  removed,  our  Author  proceeds,  in  the  next  place,  to 
that  which  is  revealed ;  and  as  an  introduction  to  an  inquiry 
into  the  Credibility  of  Christianity,  begins  with  the  conside- 
ration of  its  Importance. 

The  importance  of  Christianity  appears  in  two  respects. 
First,  In  its  being  a  republication  of  natural  Religion,  in  ita 
native  simplicity,  with  authority,  and  with  circumstances  of 
advantage  ;  ascertaining  in  many  instances  of  moment, 
what  before  was  only  probable,  and  particularly  confirming 
the  doctrine  of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments.§ 
•Secondly,  As  revealing  a  new  dispensation  of  Providence, 
originating  from  the  pure  love  and  mercy  of  God,  and  con- 
ducted by  the  mediation  of  his  Son,  and  the  guidance  of 
his  Spirit,  for  the  recovery  and  salvation  of  mankind,  re 
presented  in  a  state  of  apostacy  and  ruin.  This  account  of 
Christianity  being  admitted  to  be  just,  and  the  distinct  offi- 
ces of  these  three  divine  persons  being  once  discovered  to 
us,  we  are  as  much  obliged,  in  point  of  duty,  to  acknowledge 
Ihe  relations  we  stand  in  to  the  Son  and  Holy  Ghost,  as  our 
Mediator  and  Sanctifier,  as  we  are  obliged  in  point  of  duty 

*  Sec  a  Treatise  on  Divine  Benevolence,  by  Dr  Thomas  Balguy, 
Partii. 

t  See  >"Dte  F,  at  the  end  of  this  Prefiu*. 
t  Part  i.  Chan.  7. 

«  See  nrte  U,  at  the  end  of  Ob  Preface 
4 


12  PREFACE 

to  acknowledge  the  relation  we  stand  in  to  God  the  Fa 
tl.ei  ;  although  the  two  former  of  these  relations  be  learni 
from  revelation  only,  and  in  the  last  we  are  instructed  by  the 
light  of  nature  ;  the  obligation  in  either  case,  arising  from 
the  offices  themselves,  and  not  at  all  depending  on  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  are  made  known  to  us.* 

The  presumptions  against  revelation  in  general  are,  tha 
it  is  not  discoverable  by  reason,  that  it  is  unlike  to  what  its 
so  discovered,  and  that  it  was  introduced  and  supported  b> 
miracles.  But  in  a  scheme  so  large  as  that  of  the  universe, 
xinbounded  in  extent  and  everlasting  in  duration,  there  mus( 
of  necessity  be  numberless  circumstances  which  are  beyond 
the  reach  of  our  faculties  to  discern,  and  which  can  only  be 
known  by  divine  illumination.  And  both  in  the  natural  and 
moral  government  of  the  world,  under  which  we  live,  we 
find  many  things  unlike  one  to  another,  and  therefore  ought 
not  to  wonder  if  the  sanoe  unlikeness  obtain  between  things 
visible  and  invisible  ;  although  it  be  far  from  true,  that  re- 
vealed religion  is  entirely  unlike  the  constitution  of  nature, 
as  analogy  may  teach  us.  Nor  is  there  any  thing  incredible 
in  revelation,  considered  as  miraculous  ;  whether  miracles  be 
supposed  to  have  been  performed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  or  after  a  course  of  nature  has  been  established.  Not 
al  the  beginning  of  the  world ;  for  then  there  was  either  no 
cour.se  of  nature  at  all,  or  a  power  must  have  been  exerted 
totally  different  from  what  that  course  is  at'present.  AD 
men  and  animals  cannot  have  been  born,  as  they  are  now  ; 
but  a  pair  of  each  sort  must  have  been  produced  at  first,  in 
a  way  altogether  unlike  to  that  in  which  they  have  been 
since  produced ;  unless  we  affirm,  that  men  and  animals 
have  existed  from  eternity  in  an  endless  succession.  One 
miracle,  therefore,  at  least,  there  must  have  been  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  world,  or  at  the  time  of  man's  creation.  Nol 
after  the  settlement  of  a  course  of  nature,  on  account  of  mira- 
cles being  contrary  to  that  course,  or,  in  other  words,  contra- 
ry to  experience ;  for,  in  order  to  know  whether  miracles 
worked  in  attestation  of  a  divine  religion,  be  contrary  to  ex 
penence  or  not,  we  ought  to  be  acquainted  with  other  cases 
similar  or  parallel  to  those  in  which  miracles  are  alleged  to 
have  been  wrought.  But  where  shall  we  find  such  similar 
or  parallel  cases  ?  The  world  which  we  inhabit  affords 
none.  >V-  fenow  of  ::*/  extraordinary  rev  el' At  ions  frorr.  God 

*  Pert  ii.  Chapter  6 


EY    THE    EDITOR.  13 

to  man,  but  those  recorded  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament  r 
all  of  which  were  established  by  miracles.  It  cannot  there- 
fore be  said,  that  miracles  are  incredible,  because  contrary  to 
experience,  when  all  the  experience  we  have  is  in  favor  of 
miracles,  and  on  the  side  of  religion.*  Besides,  in  reason- 
ing concerning  miracles,  they  ought  not  to  be  compared  with 
common  natural  events,  but  with  uncommon  appearances, 
such  as  comets,  magnetism,  electricity  ;  which,  to  one  ac- 
quainted only  with  the  usual  phenomena  of  nature,  and  the 
common  powers  of  matter,  must  before  proof  of  their  actual 
existence,  be  thought  incredible.f 

.  The  presumptions  against  Revelation  in  general  being 
despatched,  objections  against  the  Christian  Revelation  in 
particular,  against  the  scheme  of  it,  as  distinguished  from 
objections  against  its  evidence,  are  considered  next.  Now, 
supposing  a  revelation  to  be  really  given,  it  is  highly  proba- 
ble beforehand,  that  it  must  contain  many  things  appearing 
to  us  liable  to  objections.  The  acknowledged  dispensation 
of  nature  is  very  different  from  what  we  should  have  expect- 
ed :  reasoning  then  from  analogy,  the  revealed  dispensation, 
it  is  credible,  would  be  also  different.  Nor  are  \ve  in  any 
sort  judges  at  what  time,  or  in  what  degree,  or  manner  it  is 
fit  or  expedient  for  God  to  instruct  us,  in  things  confessedly 
of  the  greatest  use,  either  by  natural  reason,  or  by  superna- 
tural information.  Thus,  arguing  on  speculation  only,  and 
without  experience,  it  \vould  seem  very  unlikely  that  so  im- 
portant a  remedy  as  that  provided  by  Christianity,  for  the  re- 
covery of  mankind  from  a  state  of  ruin,  should  have  been 
for  so  many  ages  withheld  ;  and,  when  at  last  vouchsafed, 
should  be  imparted  to  so  few  ;  and,  after  it  has  been  impart- 
ed, should  be  attended  with  obscurity  and  doull.  And  just 
BO  we  might  have  argued,  before  experience,  concerning  the 
remedies  provided  in  nature  for  bodily  diseases,  to  which 
oy  nature  we  are  exposed  :  for  many  of  these  were  unknown 
to  mankind  for  a  number  of  ages  ;  are  known  but  to  few 
now :  some  important  ones  probably  not  discovered  yet ;  and 
.hose  which  are,  neither  certain  in  their  application,  nor  uni- 
versal in  their  use.  And  the  same  mode  of  reasoning  that 
would  lead  us  to  expect  they  should  have  been  so,  would 
lead  us  to  expect  that  the  necessity  of  them  should  havo 
been  superseded,  by  there  being  no  diseases  ;  as  the  neces- 
sity of  the  Christian  scheme,  it  may  be  thought,  might  also 

*  See  note  H,  at  th«  end  of  this  Pretec-  T  Chap.  St 


14  PREFACE 

have  heen  superseded,  by  preventing  the  fall  of.man,  so  that 
he  should  i  lot  have  stood  in  need  of  a  Redeemer  at  all.* 

As  to  the  objections  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
Christianity,  the  same  answer  may  be  applied  to  them  aa 
was  to  the  like  objections  against  the  constitution  of  nature. 
For  here  also,  Christianity  is  a  scheme  or  economy,  compo- 
sed of  various  parts,  forminga  whole,  in  which  scheme  means 
are  used  for  the  accomplishing  of  ends ;  and  which  is  con- 
ducted by  general  laws,  of  all  of  which  we  know  as  little 
as  we  do  of  the  constitution  of  nature.  And  the  seeming 
want  of  wisdom  or  goodness  in  this  system  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  same  cause,  as  the  like  appearances  of  defects  in  the 
natural  system ;  our  inabilit}'  to  discern  the  whole  scheme, 
and  our  ignorance  of  the  relation  of  those  parts  which  are 
discernible  to  others  beyond  our  view. 

The  objections  against  Christianity,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
and  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  it,  having  been  ob- 
viated together,  the  chief  of  them  are  now  to  be  considered 
distinctly.  One  of  these,  which  is  levelled  against  the  en- 
tire system  itself,  is  of  this  sort:  The  restoration  of  mankind, 
represented  in  Scripture  as  the  great  design  of  the  gospel,  is 
described  as  requiring  a  long  series  of  means,  and  persons, 
and  dispensations,  before  it  can  be  brought  to  its  completion  ; 
whereas  the  whole  ought  to  have  been  effected  at  once. 
Now  every  thing  we  see  in  the  course  of  nature,  shows  the 
folly  of  this  objection.  For  in  the  natural  course  of  Provi- 
dence, ends  are  brought  about  by  means,  not  operating  im- 
mediately and  at  once,  but  deliberately  and  in  a  way  of  pro- 
gression ;  one  thing  being  subservient  to  another,  this  to 
somewhat  farther.  The  change  of  seasons,  the  ripening  of 
fruits,  the  growth  of  vegetable  and  animal  bodies,  are  in- 
stances of  this.  And  therefore,  that  the  same  progres- 
sive method  should  be  followed  in  the  dispensation  of  Chris- 
tianity, as  is  observed  in  the  common  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence, is  a  reasonable  expectation  justified  by  the  analogy 
of  nature.f 

Another  circumstance,  objected  to  in  the  Christian  scheme, 
is  the  appointment  of  a  Mediator,  and  the  saving  of  the 
world  through  him.  But  tho  visible  government  of  God  be- 
ing actually  administered  in  this  way,  or  by  the  mediation 
and  'nstrumentality  of  others,  there  can  be  no  general  pre- 
sumj  lion  against  an  appointment  of  this  kind,  against  this 

•  Chap,  a  t  Cfcpi  4. 


BY    THE    EDITOR.  15 

in  visible  government  being  exercised  in  the  same  manner. 
We  have  seen  already,  that  with  regard  to  ourselves  this 
visible  government  is  carried  on  by  rewards  and  punish- 
ments ;  for  happiness  and  misery  are  the  consequences  of 
our  own  actions,  considered  as  virtuous  and  vicious  ;  and 
these  consequences  we  are  enabled  to  foresee.  It  might  have 
been  imagined,  before  consulting  experience,  that  after  we 
had  rendered  ourselves  liable  to  misery  by  our  own  ill  con- 
duct, sorrow  for  what  was  past,  and  behaving  well  for  the 
future,  would,  alone,  and  of  themselves,  have  exempted  us 
from  deserved  punishment,  and  restored  us  to  the  divine  fa- 
vor. But  the  fact  is  otherwise ;  and  real  reformation  is  of- 
ten found  to  be  of  no  avail,  so  as  to  secure  the  criminal  from 
poverty,  sickness,  infamy,  and  death,  the  never  failing  at- 
tendants on  vice  and  extravagance,  exceeding  a  certain  de- 
gree. By  the  course  of  nature  then  it  appears,  God  does 
not  always  pardon  a  sinner  on  his  repentance.  Yet  there  is 
provision  made,  even  in  nature,  that  the  miseries  which  men 
bring  on  themselves,  by  unlawful  indulgences,  may  in  many 
cases  be  mitigated,  and  in  some  removed  ;  partly  by  extra- 
ordinary exertions  of  the  offender  himself,  but  more  espe- 
cially and  frequently  by  the  intervention  of  others,  who  vo- 
luntarily, and  from  motives  of  compassion,  submit  to  labor 
and  sorrow,  such  as  produce  long  and  lasting  inconveniences 
to  themselves,  as  the  means  of  rescuing  another  from  the 
wretched  effects  of  former  imprudences.  Vicarious  punish-  • 
ment,  therefore,  or  one  person's  sufferings  contributing  to 
the  relief  of  another,  is  a  providential  disposition  in  ihe  econo- 
my of  nature.*  And  it  ought  not  to  be  matter  of  surprise, 
if  by  a  method  analogous  to  this  we  be  redeemed  from  sin 
and  misery,  in  the  economy  of  grace.  That  marikind  at 
present  are  in  a  state  of  degradation,  different  from  that  in 
which  they  were  originally  created,  is  the  very  ground  of 
the  Christian  revelation,  as  contained  in  the  Scriptures. 
Whether  we  acquiesce  in  the  account,  that  our  being  placed 
in  such  a  state  is  owing  to  the  crime  of  our  first  parents,  or 
choose  to  ascribe  it  to  any  other  cause,  it  makes  no  differ- 
ence as  to  our  condition  :  the  vice  and  unhappiness  of  the 
world  am  still  there,  notwithstanding  all  our  suppositions  ; 
nor  is  it  Christianity  that  hath  put  us  into  this  state.  Wo 
earn  also  from  the  same  Scriptures,  what  experience  and 
the  iisc  of  expiatory  sacrifices  from  the  most  early  tunes 

•  Sec  note  I,  at  the  end  of  this  Preface. 


might  have  taught  us,  that  repentance  alone  is  not  sufficient 
to  prevent  the  fatal  consequences  of  past  transgressions 
But  that  still  there  is  room  for  mercy,  and  that  repcntanct 
shall  be  available,  though  not  of  itself,  yet  through  the  me- 
diation of  a  divine  person,  the  Messiah  ;  who,  from  the  snb- 
limest  principles  of  compassion,  when  we  were  dead  in  tres- 
passes and  sins,*  suffered  and  died,  the  innocent  for  the  guil- 
ty, the  just  for  the  unjust,!  tnat  we  might  have  redemption 
through  his  blood,  even  'the  forgiveness  of  sins.  J  In  what 
way  the  death  of  Christ  was  of  that  efficacy  it  is  said  to 
be,  in  procuring  the  reconciliation  of  sinners,  the  Scriptures 
have  not  explained.  It  is  enough  that  the  doctrine  is  re- 
vealed ;  that  it  is  not  contrary  to  any  truth  which  reason 
and  experience  teach  us  ;  and  that  it  accords  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  the  usual  method  of  the  divine  conduct  in  the 
government  of  the  world. § 

Again  it  hath  been  said,  that  if  the  Christian  revelation 
were  true,  it  must  have  been  universal,  and  could  not  have 
been  left  upon  doubtful  evidence.  But  God,  in  his  natural 
providence,  dispenses  his  gifts  in  great  variety,  not  only 
among  creatures  of  the  same  species,  but  to  the  same  indi- 
viduals also  at  different  thries.  Had  the  Christian  revela- 
tion been  universal  at  first,  yet,  from  the  diversity  of  men's 
abilities,  both  of  mind  and  body,  their  various  means  of  im- 
provement, and  other  external  advantages,  some  persons 
must  soon  have- been  in  a  situation,  with  respect  to  religious 
knowledge,  much  superior  to  that  of  others,  as  much  per- 
haps as  they  are  at  present.  And  all  men  will  be  equita- 
bly dealt  with  at  last  j  and  to  whom  little  is  given,  of  him 
little  will  be  required.  Then,  as  to  the  evidence  of  religion 
being  leTt  doubtful,  difficulties  of  this  sort,  like  difficulties  in 
practice,  afford  scope  and  opportunity  for  a  virtuous  exercise 
of  the  understanding,  and  dispose  the  mind  to  acquiesce  and 
rest  satisfied  with  any  evidence  that  is  real.  In  the  daily 
commerce  of  life,  men  are  cbliged  to  act  upon  great  uncer- 
tainties, with  regard  to  success  in  their  temporal  pursuits  ; 
and  the  case  with  regard  to  religion  is  parallel.  However, 
though  religion  be  not  intuitively  true,  the  proofs  of  it  which 
we  have  are  amply  sufficient  in  reason  to  induce  us  to  em- 
brace it ;  and  dissatisfaction  with  those  proofs  may  possibly 
be  men's  own  fault,  jl 

Nothing  remains  but  to  attend  to  the  positive  evident* 

*  Eph.  fl.  1.  T  1  Pet  iiL  18.  *  Colo*.  L  It 

I  Chap.  5.  11  Chap.  & 


BY    THE    EDITOR.  17 

there  is  for  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Now,  besides  its  di- 
rect and  fundamental  proofs,  which  are  miracles  and  prophe- 
cies ;  there  are  many  collateral  circumstances,  which  may  t« 
united  into  one  view,and  altogether  may  beconsidered  <ts ma- 
king up  one  argument.  In  this  way  of  treating  the  subject, 
the  revelation,  whether  real  or  otherwise,  may  be  supposed 
to  be  wholly  historical :  the  general  design  of  which  appears 
to  be.  to  give  an  account  of  the  condition  of  religion,  and  its 
professors,  with  a  concise  narration  of  the  political  state  of 
things,  as  far  as  religion  is  affected  by  it,  during  a  great 
length  of  time,  near  six  thousand  years  of  which  are  already 
past.  More  particularly,  it  comprehends  an  account  of  God's 
entering  into  covenant  with  one  nation,  the  Jews,  that  he 
would  be  their  God,  and  that  they  should  be  his  people  ;  of 
his  often  interposing  in  their  affairs  ;  giving  them  the  pro- 
mise; and  afterwards  the  possession,  of  a  flourishing  coun- 
try ;  assuring  them  of  the  greatest  national  prosperity  in 
case  of  their  obedience,  and  threatening  the  severest  nation 
al  punishment  in  case  they  forsook  him,  and  joined  in.  the 
idolatry  of  their  pagan  neighbors.  It  contains  also  a  pre- 
diction of  a  particular  person  to  appear  in  the  fulness  of  rime, 
in  whom  all  the  promises  of  God  to  the  Jews  were  to  be  ful- 
filled. And  it  relates,  that,  at  the  time  expected,  a  per- 
son did  actually  appear,  assuming  to  be  the  Saviour  fore 
told  ;  that  he  worked  various  miracles  among  them,  in  con- 
fmr.ution  of  his  divine  authority  ;  and  as  was  foretold  also, 
wa?  rejected  and  put  to  death  by  the  very  people  who  had 
io.ig  desired  and  waited  for  his  coming  :  But  that  his  reli- 
gion, in  spite  of  all  opposition,  was  established  in  the  world 
oy  his  disciples,  invested  with  supernatural  powers  for  that 
purpose  ;  of  the  fate  and  fortunes  of  which  religion  there  ia 
a  prophetical  description,  carried  down  to  the  end  of  time. 
Lei.  any  one  now,  after  reading  the  above  history,  and  not 
knowing  whether  the  whole  were  not  a  fiction,  be  supposed 
to  ask,  Whether  all  that  is  here  related  be  true  1  and  instead 
of  a  direct  answer,  let  him  be  informed  of  the  several  ac- 
knowledged facts,  which  arc  found  to  correspond  to  it  in  real 
iifo  ;  and  then,  let  him  compare  the  history  and  facts  toge- 
th<  r.  and  observe  the  astomsliing  coincidence  of  both  :  Such 
a,  joint  review  must  appear  to  him  of  very  great  weight,  and 
to  amount  to  evidence  somewhat  more  than  human.  Arid 
unless  the  whole  series,  and  every  particular  circumstance 


J8  PSEFACB 

contained  in  it,  can  be  thought  to  have  arisen  from  accident, 
the  truth  of  Christianity  is  proved.* 

The  view  here  given  of  the  moral  and  religious  system* 
of  Bishop  Butler,  it  will  immediately  be  perceived,  is  chiefly 
intended  for  younger  students,  especially  for  students  in  di- 
vinity ;  to  whom  it  is  hoped  it  may  be  of  use,  so  as  to  en- 
courage them  to  peruse,  with  proper  diligence,  the  origina. 
works  of  the  Author  himself.  For  it  may  be  necessary  t« 
observe,  that  neither  of  the  volumes  of  this  excellent  pre- 
late are  addressed  to  those  who  read  for  amusement,  or  curio- 
sity, or  to  get  rid  of  time.  All  subjects  are  not  to  be  com- 
prehended with  the  same  ease ;  and  morality  and  religion, 
when  treated  as  sciences,  each  accompanied  with  difficulties 
of  its  own,  can  neither  of  them  be  understood  as  they  ought, 
without  a  very  peculiar  attention.  But  morality  and  reli- 
gion are  not  merely  to  be  studied  as  sciences,  or  as  being 
speculatively  true  ;  they  are  to  be  regarded  in  another  and 
higher  light,  as  the  rule  of  life  and  manners,  as  containing 
authoritative  directions  by  which  to  regulate  our  faith  and 
practice.  And  in  this  view,  the  in  anite  importance  of  them 
considered,  it  can  never  be  an  indifferent  matter  whether 
they  be  received  or  rejected.  For  both  claim  to  be  the  voice 
of  God ;  and  whether  they  be  so  or  not,  cannot  be  know, 
till  their  claims  be  impartially  examined.  If  they  indeed 
come  from  him,  we  are  bound  to  conform  to  them  at  our 
peril :  nor  is  it  left  to  our  choice,  whether  we  will  submit  to 
the  obligations  they  impose,  upon  us  or  net ;  for  submit  to 
them  we  must,  in  such  a  sense,  as  to  incur  the  punishments 
denounced  by  both  against  wilful  disobedience  to  their  in- 
junctions. 

*  Chap.  7.  To  the  Analogy  arc  subjoined  two  Dissertations,  both  on 
ginally  inserted  in  the  body  of  the  work. .  One  on  Personal  Identity,  in 
which  are  contained  some  strictures  on  Mr  Locke,  who  asserts  that  con- 
sciousness makes  or  constitutes  personal  identity ;  whereas,  as  our  author 
observes,  consciousness  makes  only  personality,  or  is  necessary  to  the  idea  of 
a  person,  i.  e.  a  thinking,  intelligent  being,  but  presupposes,  and  thcrdbnf 
cannot  constitute,  personal  identity;  just  as  knowledge  presupposes  truth, 
but  does  not  constitute  it.  Consciousness  of  past  actions  does  indeed  show 
us  llie  identity  of  ourselves,  or  gives  us  a  certain  assurance  that  we  are  the 
same  ]>ersons  or  living  agents  now,  which  we  were  at  the  time  to  which  our 
remembrance  can  look  back  ;  but  still  we  should  be  the  same  persons  as  we 
were,  though  this  consciousness  of  what  is  past  were  wanting,  though  al 
that  had  been  done  by  us  formerly  were  forgotten ;  unless  it  be  true,  thai 
no  person  has  existed  a  single  moment  beyond  what  he  can  remember. 
The  other  dissertation  is  On  tlic  Nature  of  Vii  tue,  which  properly  be 
tongs  to  the  moral  system  of  our  Author  already  explained 


THE    LIFE 


DR   BUTLER 


DR  JOSEPH  BUTLER,  a  prelate  of  the  most  distinguished 
character  and  abilities,  was  born  at  Wantage,  in  Berk- 
shire, in  the  year  1692.  His  father  Mr.  Thomas  Butler, 
who  was  a  substantial  and  reputable  shopkeeper  in  that 
town,  observing  in  his  son  Joseph*  an  excellent  genius  and  in,- 
clination  for  learning,  determined  to  educate  him  for  the  min- 
istry, among  the  Protestant  dissenters  of  the  presbyterian 
denomination.  For  this  purpose,  after  he  had  gone  through 
a  proper  course  of  grammatical  literature,  at  the  free  gram- 
mar school  of  his  native  place,  under  the  care  of  the  Rev. 
Mr  Philip  Barton,  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England, 
he  was  sent  to  a  dissenting  academy,  then  kept  at  Glouces- 
ter, but  which  was  soon  afterwards  removed  to  Tewksbury. 
The  principal  tutor  of  this  academy  was  Mr  Jones,  a  man 
of  uncommon  abilities  and  knowledge,  who  had  the  honor 
of  training  up  several  scholars,  who  became  of  great  emi- 
nence, both  in  the  established  church  and  among  the  dissen- 
ters. At  Tukesbury,  Mr  Butler  made  an  extraordinary 
progress  in  the  study  of  divinity  ;  of  which  he  gave  a  re- 
markable proof,  in  the  letters  addressed  by  him  while  he 
resided  at  Tukesbury,  to  Dr  Samuel  Clarke,  laying  before 
him  the  doubts  that  had  arisen  in  his  mind,  concerning  the 
cor.clusivemss  of  some  arguments  in  the  Doctor's  demon- 
stration of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God.  The  first  of 
these  letters  was  dated  the  4rh  November,  1713  ;  and  the 
sagacity  an  i  depth  of  thought  displayed  in  it,  immediately 
excited  Dr  Clark's  particular  notice.  This  condescension 

•  Ho  was  the  youngest  of  eight  children 
4* 


20  THE    LIFE    OF 

encouraged  Mr  Butler  to  address  the  Doctor  again  upon 
the  same  subject,  which  likewise  was  answered  by  him : 
and  the  correspondence  being  cariied  on  in  three  other  let- 
ters, the  whole  was  annexed  to  the  celebrated  treatise  before 
mentioned,  and  the  collection  has  been  retained  in  all  the 
subsequent  editions  of  that  work.  The  .management  of 
this  correspondence  was  intrusted  by  Mr  Butler  to  his  friend 
and  fellow  pupil,  Mr  Seeker,  who,  in  order  to  conceal  the 
affair,  undertook  to  convey  the  letters  to  the  post-office  at 
Gloucester,  and  to  bring  back  Dr  Clark's  answers.  When 
Mr  Butler's  name  was  discovered  to  the  doctor,  the  candor, 
modesty,  and  good  sense,  with  which  he  had  written,  imme- 
diately procured  him  the  friendship  of  that  eminent  and  ex- 
cellent man.  Our  young  student  was  not,  however,  during 
his  continuance  at  Tukesbury,  solely  employed  in  metaphy- 
sical speculations  and  inquiries.  Another  subject  of  his 
serious,  consideration  was,  the  propriety  of  his  becoming  a 
dissenting  minister.  Accordingly,  he  entered  into  an  ex- 
amination of  the  principles  of  non-conformity  j  the  result  of 
which  was,  such  a  dissatisfaction  with  them,  as  determined 
him  to  conform  to  the  established  church.  This  intention 
was,  at  first,  disagreeable  to  his  father,  who  endeavored  to 
divert  him  from  his  purpose  ;  and,  with  that  view,  called  in 
the  assistance  of  some  eminent  presbyterian  divines ;  tut 
finding  his  son's  resolution  to  be  fixed,  he  at  length  suffered 
him  to  be  removed  to  Oxford,  where  he  was  admitted  a  com- 
moner of  Oriel  college,  on  the  17th  March,  1714.  And 
what  time  he  took  orders  doth  not  appear,  nor  who  the  bishop 
was  by  whom  he  was  ordained ;  but  it'  is  certain  that  he 
entered  into  the  church  soon  after  his  admission  at  Oxford,  if 
It  be  true,  as  is  asserted,  that  he  sometimes  assisted  Mr 
Edward  Talbot  in  the  divine  service,  at  his  living  of  Hen- 
dred,  near  Wantage  With  this  gentleman,  who  was  the 
second  son  of  Dr  William  Talbot,  successively  bishop  of 
Oxford,  Salisbury,  and  Durham,  Mr  Butler  formed  an  inti- 
mate friendship  at  Oriel  college  ;  which  friendship  laid  the 
foundation  of  all  his  subsequent  preferments,  and  procured 
for  him  a  very  honorable  station,  when  he  was  only  twenty, 
six  years  of  age.  For  it  was  in  1718  that,  at  the  recom- 
mendation of  Mr  Talbot,  in  conjunction  with  that  of  Di 
Clarke,  he  was  appointed  by  Sir  Joseph  Jekyll  to  be  preach- 
er at  the  Rolls.  This  was  three  years  before  he  had  taken 
aay  degree  at  the  University,  where  he  did  not  go  out  bache- 
for  of  law  till  the  10th  Juno,  1721,  which,  however,  was  as 


DR    BU1LER.  21 

*oon  as  that  degree  could  suitably  be  conferred  on  birr.  Mr 
Butler  continued  at  the  Rolls  till  1726  ;  in  the  beginning  of 
^rhich  year  he  published,  in  one  volume  octavo,  "  Fifteen 
Sermons  preached  at  that  Chapel."  In  the  meanwhile,  by 
the  patronage  of  Dr  Talbot,  bishop  of  Durham,  to  whose 
notice  he  had  been  recommended  (together  with  Mr  Bfn- 
Bon  and  Mr  Seeker)  by  Mr  Edward  Talbot,  on  his  death 
oed,  our  author  had  been  presented  first  to  the  rectory  of 
Iluughton,  near  Darlington,  and  afterwards  to  that  of  Stan- 
fcrpe,  in  the  same  diocese.  The  benefice  of  Haughton, 
was  given  to  him  in  1722,  and  that  of  Stanhope  in  1725. 
At  Haughton  there  was  a  necessity  for  rebuilding  a  great 
pan  of  the  parsonage  house,  and  Mr  Butler  had  neither 
money  nor  talents  for  that  work.  Mr  Seeker,  therefore, 
wno  had  always  the  interest  of  his  friends  at  heart,  and  ac- 
quired a  very  considerable  influence  with  Bishop  Talbot, 
persuaded  that  prelate  to  give  Mr  Butler,  in  exchange  for 
Haughton,  the  rectory  of  Stanhope,  which  was  not  only 
free  from  any  such  incumbrance,  but  was  likewise  of  much 
superior  value,  being  indeed  one  of  the  richest  parsonages 
in  England.  Whilst  our  author  continued  preacher  at  the 
Rolls-Chapel,  he  divided  his  time  between  his  duty  in  town 
and  country  ;  but  when  he  quitted  the  Roi.  he  resided, 
during  seven  years,  wholly  at  Stanhope,  in  tin  conscious 
discharge  of  every  obligation  appertaining  to  a  go  '  parish 
priest.  This  retirement,  however,  was  too  solitary  ~r  his 
disposition,  which  had  in  it  a  natural  cast  of  gloomuvss. 
And  though  his  recluse  hours  were  by  no  means  lost,  either 
to  private  improvement  or  public  utility,  yet  he  felt  at  times, 
very  painfully,  the  want  of  that  select  society  of  friends  to 
which  he  had  been  accustomed,  and  which  could  inspire  him 
with  the  greatest  cheerfulness.  Mr  Seeker,  therefore,  who 
knew  this,  was  extremely  anxious  to  draw  him  out  into  a 
more  active  and  conspicuous  scene,  and  omitted  no  opportu 
nity  of  expressing  this  desire  to  such  as  he  thought  capable 
of  promoting  it.  Having  himself  been  appointed  king's 
chaplain,  in  1732,  he  took  occasion,  in  a  conversation  which 
he  had  the  honor  of  holding  with  Queen  Caroline,  to  men- 
tion 'to  her  his  friend  Mr  Butler.  The  queen  said  she 
thought  he  had  been  dead.  Mr  Seeker  assured  heuhe  was 
not.  Yet  her  Majesty  afterwards  asked  Archbishop  Black- 
burn if  he  was  not  dead  ;  his  answer  was,  "  No,  madam  ; 
but  he  is  buried."  Mr  Seeker  continuing  his  purpose  of 
endeavouring  to  bring  his  friend  out  of  his  retirement,  found 


22  THE    LIFE    Of 

means,  upon  Mr  Charles  Talbot's  being  made  lord  chansel 
lor,  to  have  Mr  Butler  recommended  to  him  for  his  chaplain. 
His  lordship  accepted,  and  sent  for  him  ;  and  this  promotion 
calling  him  to  town,  he  took  Oxford  in  his  way,  and  was  ad- 
mitted there  to  the  degree  of  doctor  of  law,  on  the  8th 
December,  1733.  The  lord  chancellor,  who  gave  him  also 
a  prebend  in  the  church  of  Rochester,  had  consented  that 
hfc  should  reside  at  his  parish  of  Stanhope  one  half  of  the 
year. 

Dr  Butler  being  thus  brought  back  into  the  world,  his 
merit  and  his  talents  soon  introduced  him  to  particular  no- 
tice, and  paved  the  way  for  his  rising  to  those  high  dignities 
which  he  afterwards  enjoyed.  In  1736  he  was  appointed 
clerk  of  the  closet  to  queen  Caroline  ;  and  in  the  same  year, 
he  presented  to  her  majesty  a  copy  of  his  excellent  treatise, 
entitled,  "  The  Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed, 
to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature."  His  attendance 
upon  his  royal  mistress,  by  her  especial  command,  was  from 
seven  to  nine  m  the  evening  every  day  ;  and  though  this 
particular  relation  to  that  excellent  and  learned  queen  was 
soon  determined  by  her  death  in  1737,  yet  he  had  been  so 
effectually  recommended  by  her,  as  well  as  by  the  late  Lord 
Chancellor  Talbot,  to  his  Majesty's  favor,  that  in  the  next 
year  he  was  raised  to  the  highest  order  of  the  church,  by  a 
nomination  to  the  bishopric  of  Bristol ;  to  which  see  he  was 
consecrated  on  the  Third  December,  1738.  King  George 
II.  not  being  satisfied  with  this  proof  of  his  regard  to  Dr 
Butler,  promoted  him,  in  1740,  to  the  deanery  of  St  Paul's, 
London  ;  into  which  he  was  installed  on  the  24th  May  in 
that  year.  Finding  the  demands  of  this  dignity  to  be  in- 
compatible with  his  parish  duty  at  Stanhope,  he  immediate- 
ly resigned  that  rich  benefice.  Besides  our  prelate's  unrc- 
mitted  attention  to  his  peculiar  obligations,  he  was  called 
upon  to  preach  several  discourses  on  public  occasions,  which 
were  afterwards  separately  printed,  and  have  since  been  an- 
nexed to  the  latter  editions  of  the  sermons  at  the  Rolls- 
Chapel.  In  1746,  upon  the  death  of  Dr  Egerton,  bishop 
of  Hereford,  Dr  Butler  was  made  clerk  of  the  closet  to  the 
King  ;  and  on  the  16th  October,  1750,  he  received  another 
distinguished  mark  of  his  Majesty's  favor,  by  being  transla 
ted  to  the  see  of  Durham.  This  was  on  the  16th  of  Ocio 
oer  in  that  year,  upon  the  decease  of  Dr  Edward  Chandler. 
^Our  prelate  being  thus  appointed  to  preside  over  a  diocese 
Vith  which  he  had  long  been  connected,  delivered  his  first, 


DR    BUTLER.  23 

ind  indeed  his  last  charge  to  his  clergy,  at  his  primary  visi- 
!ation  in  1751.  The  principal  object  of  it  was,  '  External 
Religion.'  The  bishop  having  observed,  with  deep  concern, 
the  great  and  growing  neglect  of  serious  piety  in  the  king- 
dom, insisted  strongly  on  the  usefulness  of  outward  foi  ins 
and  institutions,  in  fixing  and  preserving  a  sense  of  levot.'on 
and  duty  in  the  minds  of  men.  In  doing  this,  *ie  was 
thought  by  several  persons  to  speak  too  favourably  of  Pa- 
gan and  Popish  ceremonies,  and  to  countenance  in  a  certain 
degree,  '.he  cause  of  superstition.  Under  that  apprehension 
an  able  and  spirited  writer,  who  was  understood  to  be  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  published  in  1752,  a 
pamphlet,  entitled,  '  A  Serious  Inquiry  into  the  Use  and 
Importance  of  External  Religion  ;  occasioned  by  some  pas- 
sages in  the  Right  Rev.  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Durham's 
Charge  to  the  Clergy  of  that  Diocese  ; — Humbly  addressed 
to  his  Lordship.'  Many  persons,  however,  and  we  believe  the 
greater  part  of  the  Clergy  of  the  diocese,  did  not  think  our 
prelate's  Charge  so  exceptionable  as  it  appeared  to  this  au- 
thor. The  Charge,  being  printed  at  Durham,  and  having 
never  been  annexed  to  any  of  Dr  Butler's  other  works,  is 
now  become  extremely  scarce  ;  and  it  is  observable,  that  i« 
is  the  only  one  of  his  publications  which  ever  produced  him 
a  direct  literary  antagonist.* 

By  this  promotion,  our  worthy  bishop  was  furnished  with 
ample  means  of  exerting  the  virtue  of  charity ;  a  virtue 
which  eminently  abounded  in  him,  and  the  exercise  ol 
which  was  his  highest  delight.  But  this  gratification  he 
did  nor,  iong  enjoy.  He  had  been  but  a  short  time  seated  in 
his  new  bishopric,  when  his  health  began  visibly  to  decline  : 
and  having  been  complimented,  during  his  indisposition,  up- 
on account  of  his  great  resignation  to  the  divine  will,  he  is 
said  to  have  expressed  some  regret  that  he  should  be  taken 
from  the  present  world  so  soon  after  he  had  been  rendered 
capable  of  becoming  much  more  useful  in  it.  In  his  l<\st 
illness  ho  was  carried  to  Bristol,  to  try  the  waters  of  that 
place  ;  but  these  proving  ineffectual,  he  removed  to  Bath, 
where,  being  past  recovery,  he  died  on  the  16th  of  June, 
1752.  His  corpse  was  conveyed  to  Bristol,  and  interred  in 
the  cathedral  there,  where  a  monument,  with  an  inscription, 
IE  erected  to  his  memory. 

On  the  greatness  of  Bishop  Butler's  character  we  need 

»  This  Charge,  with  all  the  rest  of  BLshor.  Butler's  writings,  is  included 
in  the  present  edition  of  his  works. 


24  THE  LIFE  OF  DR.  BTJTLEB. 

not  enlarge  j  for  his  profound  knowledge,  and  the  prodigiou§ 
strength  of  his  mind,  are  amply  displayed  in  his  incompara- 
ble writing.  His  piety  was  of  the  most  serious  and  fervent, 
and,  perhaps  somewhat  of  the  ascetic  kind.  His  benevo 
lence  was  warm,  generous,  and  diffusive.  Whilst  he  wag 
bishop  of  Bristol  he  expended,  in  repairing  and  improving  the 
episcopal  palace,  four  thousand  pounds,  which  is  said  to 
have  been  more  than  'the  whole  revenues  of  bishopric 
amounted  to,  during  his  continuance  in  that  see.  Besides  his 
private  benefactions,  he  was  a  contributor  to  the  infirmary  at 
Bristol,  and  a  subscriber  to  three  of  the  hospitals  at  London. 
He  was  likewise  o.  principal  promoter,  though  not  the  first 
founder  of  the  infirmary  at  Newcastle,  in  Northumberland.  In 
supporting  the  hospitality  and  dignity  of  the  rich  and  pow- 
erful diocese  of  Durham,  he  was  desirous  of  imitating  the 
spirit  of  his  patron,  Bishop  Talbot.  In  this  spirit  he  set 
apart  three  days  every  week  for  the  reception  and  entertain- 
ment of  the  principal  gentry  of  the  country.  Nor  were 
even  the  clergy  who  had  the  poorest  benifices  neglected  by 
him.  He  not  only  occasionally  invited  them  to  dine  with 
him,  but  condescended  to  visit  them  at  their  respective  par 
ishes..  By  his  will  he  left. five  hundred  pounds  to  the  Socie- 
ty for  Propagating  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts  and  some 
legacies  to  his  friends  and  domestics.  His  executor  and 
residuary  legatee  was  his  chaplain,  the  Rev.  Dr  Nathaniel 
Forster,  a  divine  of  distinguished  literature.  Bishop  Butler 
was  never  married.  Soon  after  his  decease,  the  following 
lines,  by  way  of  epitaph,  were  written  concerning  him  ;  and 
were  printed  first,  if  we  recollect  aright,  in  the  London  Ma- 
gazine. 

Beneath  this  marble,  Butier  lies  entombed, 
Who,  with  a  soul  enflamed  by  love  divine, 

His  life  in  presence  of  his  God  consumed, 
Like  the  bright  lamps  before  the  holy  shrine. 

His  aspect  pleasing,  mind  with  learning  fraught, 
His  eloquence  was  like  a  chain  of  gold, 
That  the  wild  passions  of  mankind  controlled ; 

Merit,  wherever  to  be  found,  he  sought. 

Desire  of  transient  riches  he  had  none ; 

These  he,  with  bounteous  hand,  did  weil  dispense 
Bent  to  fulfil  the  ends  of  Providence ; 

His  heart  still  fixed  on  an  immortal  crown ; 
His  heart  a  mirror  was,  of  purest  kind, 
Where  the  bright  image  of  his  Maker  shined ; 

Reflecting  faithful  to  tne  throne  above, 

The  arradiant  glories  of  Jhe  Mystic  Dove. 


THE  following  Epitaph,  said  to  be  written  by  Dr  Nathan- 
iel Forster,  is  inscribed  on  a  flat  marble  stone,  in  the  ca- 
thedral church  of  Bristol,  placed  over  the  spot  where  the 
remains  of  Bishop  Butler  are  deposited  ;  and  which,  as 
it  is  now  almost  obliterated,  it  may  be  worth  while  here  to 


H.  s. 

Rcverendus  admodum  in  Christo  Pater 
JOSEPHUS  BUTLER,  LL.  D. 

Hujusce  primo  Dioscescos 
Deinde  Dunelmensis  Episcopus. 

Qualis  quantusq ;  Vir  erat 

Sua  libentissime  agnovit  aet  as : 

El  si  quid  Praesuli  aut  Scriptori  ad  famam  valeut 

Mens  altissima, 

Ingenii  perspicacis  ct  gubacti  Vis, 

Aniiiinsu  ;  pius,  simplex,  Candidas,  libcraiis, 

Mortui  hand  facile  evanescet  mcmoria. 

Obiit  Bathonia;  16  Kalend.     Julii, 

A.  D.  1752. 
Anno*  natus  60. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


IP  the  reader  should  meet  hern  with  any  thing  which  he 
had  not  before  attended  to,  it  will  not  be  in  the  observations 
upon  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature,  these  being  all 
obvious  ;  but  in  the  application  of  them  :  in  which,  ! hough 
there  is  nothing  but  what  appears  to  me  of  some  real  weight, 
and  therefore,  of  great  importance;  yet  he  will  observe 
several  things  which  will  appear  to  him  of  very  little,  if  he 
can  tnink  things  to  be  of  little  importance,  which  are  of  any 
real  weight  at  all,  upon  such  a  subject  as  religion.  How- 
ever, the  proper  force  of  the  following  treatise  lies  in  the 
whole  ffcneral  analogy  considered  together. 

It  is  come,  1  know  not  how,  to  be  taken  for  granted,  by 
many  persons,  that  Christianity  is  not  so  much  as  a  subject 
of  inquiry  ;  but  that  it  is.  now  at  length,  discovered  to  be 
fictitious.  And  accordingly  they  treat  it,  as  if,  in  the  pre- 
sent, age,  this  were  an  agreed  point  among  all  people  of  dis- 
cernment ;  and  nothing  remained,  but  to  set  it  up  as  a  prin- 
cipal subject  of  mirth  and  ridicule,  a?  it  were  by  way  of  re- 
prisals, for  its  having  so  long  interrupted  ilic  pleasures  of  ihe 
world.  On  I  he  conirary,  thus  much,  at  least,  will  be  heic 
found,  not  taken  for  granted,  but  proved,  that  any  reasona- 
ble man,  who  will  thoroughly  consider  ihe  mailer,  may  be 
as  much  assured,  as  he  is  of  his  own  being,  that  it  is  not, 
however,  so  clear  a  case,  that  there  is  nothing  in  it.  There 
is,  I  think,  strong  evidence  of  its  truth  j  but  it  is  certain 


28  ADVERTISEMENT. 

no  one  can,  upon  principles  of  reason,  be  satisfied  of  the 
contrary.  And  the  practical  consequence  to  be  drawn 
from  this,  is  not  attended  to,  by  every  one  who  is  concerned 
in  it. 

May,  1736. 


INTRODUCTION. 


PROBABLE  evidence  is  essentially  distinguished  from  de- 
monstrative by  this,  that  it  admits  of  degrees,  and  of  all 
variety  of  them,  from  the  highest  moral  certainty,  to  the  ve- 
ry lowest  presumption.  We  cannot,  indeed,  say  a  thing  is 
probably  true  upon  one  very  slight  presumption  for  it ;  be- 
cause, as  there  may  be  probabilities  on  both  sides  of  the 
question,  there  may  be  some  against  it  j  and  though  there 
be  not,  yet  a  slight  presumption  does  not  beget  that  degree 
of  conviction,  which  it  implied  in  saying  a  thing  is  probably 
true.  But  that  the  slightest  possible  presumption  is  of  the 
nature  of  a  probability,  appears  from  hence,  that  such  low 
presumption,  often  repeated,  will  amount  even  to  moral  cer- 
tainty. Thus,  a  man's  having  observed  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
f.he  tide  to-day,  affords  some  sort  of  presumption,  though  the 
.owest  imaginable,  that  it  may  happen  again  to-morrow; 
out  the  observation  of  this  event  for  so  many  days,  and 
months,  and  ages  together,  as  it  has  been  observed  by 
mankind,  gives  us  a  full  assurance  that  it  will. 

That  which  chiefly  constitutes  probability,  is  expressed  in 
the  word  likely ;  i.  e.  like  some  truth,*  or  true  event ;  like  it, 
in  itself,  in  its  evidence,  in  some  more  or  fewer  of  its  circum- 
stances. For  when  we  determine  a  thing  to  be  probably 
true,  suppose  that  an  event  has  or  will  come  to  pass,  't  is 
from  the  mind's  remarking  in  it  a  likeness  to  some  other  events 

*V< 


80  INTRODUCTION. 

which  we  have  observed  has  come  to  pass.  And  this  ob- 
servation forms,  in  numberless  daily  instances,  a  presump- 
tion, opinion,  or  full  conviction,  that  such  even:  has  or  wii] 
coint;  10  pass  ;  according  as  the  observation  is,  that  the  like 
event  has  sometimes,  most  commonly,  or  always,  so  far  as 
our  observation  reaches,  come  to  pass  at  like  distances  of 
lime,  or  place,  or  upon  like  occasions.  Hence  arises  the  be- 
lief, that  a  child,  if  it  lives  twenty  years,  will  grow  up  to  the 
stature  and  strength  of  a  man  ;  that  food  will  contribute  to 
the  preservation  of  its  life,  and  trre  want  of  it  for  such  a 
number  of  days  be  its  certain  destruction.  So,  likewise,  the 
rule  and  measure  of  our  hopes  and  fears  concerning  the  suc- 
cess of  our  pursuits  ;  our  expectations  that  others  will  act 
so  an  1  so  in  such  circumstances ;  and  our  judgment  that 
such  actions  proceed  from  such  principles  ;  all  these  rely 
upon  our  having  observed  the  like  to  what  we  hope,  fear,  ex- 
pect, judge  ;  1  say  upon  our  having  observed  the  like,  either 
with  respect  to  others  or  ourselves.  And  thus,  whereas  the 
prince,*  who  had  always  lived  in  a  warm  climate,  naturally 
concluded,  in  the  way  of  analogy,  that  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  water's  becoming  hard,  because  he  had  always  ob- 
served it  to  be  fluid  and  yielding ;  we,  on  the  contrary,  from 
aimlogy,  conclude,  that  there  is  no  presumption  at  all  against 
this  ;  that  it  is  supposable  there  may  be  frost  in  England 
any  given  day  in  January  next;  probable,  that  there 
\\  ill  on  some  day  of  the  month  ;  and  that  there  is  a  moral 
certainty,  z.  e.  ground  for  an  expectation,  without  any  doubt 
of  it,  in  some  part  or  other  of  the  winter. 

Probable  evidence,  in  its  very  nature,  affords  but  an  im- 
perfect kind  of  information,  and  is  to  be  considered  as  rela 
tivc  only  to  beings  of  limited  capacities.  For  nothing  which 
is  the  possible  object  of  knowledge,  whether  past,  present,  or 
future,  can  be  probable  loan  infinite  intelligence?  since  it 
cannot  but  be  discerned  absolutely  as  it  is  in  itself  certainly 
Hue,  or  certainly  false.  But  to  us,  probability  is  the  very 
guide  of  life. 

From  these  things  it  follows,  that  in  questions  of  difficul- 
ty, or  such  as  are  thought  so,  where  more  satisfactory  evi« 
dence  cannot  be  had,  or  is  not  seen,  if  the  result  of  examina- 
tion I-;,  that  there  appears,  upon  the  whole,  any  the  lowest 
presumption  on  one  side,  and  none  on  the  other,  or  a  greater 
pies  amp  lion  on  one  side,  though  in  the  lowest  degree  gica* 

•  The  Story  is  told  by  Mr  Locke,  in  the  chapter  of  Probability. 


INTRODUCTION.  SI 

ter,  this  determines  the  question,  even  ii  matters  of  specu 
lation  ;  and,  in  matters  of  practice,  will  lay  us  uivler  an  ab- 
solute and  formal  obligation,  in  point  of  prudence  and  cf  in- 
terest, to  act  upon  that  presumption,  or  low  probability, 
though  it  be  so  low  as  to  leave  the  mind  in  a  very  great 
doubt  which  is  the  truth.  For  surely  a  man  ss  as  really 
bound  in  prudence  to  do  what  upon  the  whole  appears,  ac- 
cording to  the  best  of  his  judgment,  to  be  for  his  happiness, 
as  what  he  certainly  knows  to  be  so.  Nay,  further,  in  ques- 
tions of  great  consequence,  a  reasonable  man  will  think  it 
concerns  him  to  remark  lower  probabilities  and  presumptions 
than  these  ;  such  as  amount  to  no  more  than  sf.owing  one 
side  of  a  question  to  be  as  supposable  and  credible  as  the 
other  ;  nay,  such  as  but  amount  to  much  less  even  than 
this.  For  numberless  instances  might  be  mentioned  res- 
pecting the  common  pursuits  of  life,  where  a  n.an  would  be 
thought,  in  a  literal  sense,  distracted,  who  would  not  act. 
and  with  great  application  too,  not  only  upon  an  even 
chance,  but  upon  much  less,  and  where  the  probability  01 
chance  was  greatly  against  his  succeeding.* 

It  is  not  my  design  to  inquire  further  into  the  nature,  the 
foundation,  and  measure  of  probability ;  or  whence  it  pro- 
ceeds, that  likeness  should  beget  that  presumption,  opinion, 
and  full  conviction,  which  tne  human  mind  is  formed  to  re- 
ceive from  it,  and  which  it  does  necessarily  produce  in  every 
one  ;  or  to  guard  against  the  errors  to  which  reasoning  fioir 
analogy  is  liable.  This  belongs  to  the  subject  of  logic,  and 
is  a  part  of  this  subject  which  has  not  yet  been  thoioughly 
considered.  Indeed  I  shall  not  take  upon  me  to  say,  how 
far  the  extent,  compass,  and  force,  of  analogical  reaeoninc 
can  be  reduced  to  general  heads  and  rules,  and  the  \\hole  be 
formed  into  a  system.  But  though  so  little  in  this  way  has 
been  attempted  by  those  who  have  treated  of  oi;r  intellectu- 
al powers,  and  the  exercise  of  them,  this  does  not  hinder 
but  that  we  may  be,  as  we  unquestionably  are,  assured,  that 
analogy  is  of  weight,  various  degrees,  towards  ckteiminirj 
our  judgment,  and  our  practice.  Nor  does  it  in  any  wise 
cease  to  be  of  weight  in  those  cases,  because  persons,  ciihci 
given  to  dispute,  or  who  require  things  to  be  stated  with 
greater  exactness  than  our  faculties  appear  to  admit  of  ii 
practical  matters,  may  find  other  cases,  in  which  it  is  nci 

•  See  Chap.  vi.  Part  2, 


32  INTRODUCTION. 

easy  to  say,  whether  it  be,  or  be  net,  of  any  weigh*  .  or  in- 
stances of  seeming  analogies,  which  are  really  of  none.  It 
is  enough  to  the  present  purpose  to  obseive,  that  this  gene- 
ral  way  of  arguing  is  evidently  natural,  just  and  conclusive, 
For  there  is  no  man  can  make  a  question  but  that  thi  sun 
will  rise  to-morrow,  and  be  seen,  where  it  is  seen  at  all,  in 
the  figure  of  a  circle,  and  not  in  that  of  a  square. 

Hence,  namely  from  analogical  reasoning,  Origen*  haa 
with  singular  sagacity  observed,  that,  '  he  who  believes  the 
Scriptures  to  have  proceeded  from  him  who  is  the  Authoi 
of  nature,  may  well  expect  to  find  the  same  sort  of  difficul- 
ties in  it.  as  are  found  in  the  constitution  of  nature.'  And, 
in  a  like  way  of  reflection,  it  may  be  added,  that  he  who  de- 
nies the  Sciipture  to  have  been  from  God,  upon  account  of 
these  difficulties,  may  for  the  very  same  reason,  deny  the 
world  to  have  been  formed  by  him.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
there  be  an  analogy,  or  likeness,  between  that  system  of 
things  and  dispensation  of  Providence  which  revelation  in- 
forms us  of,  and  that  system  of  things  and  dispensation  of 
Providence  which  experience,  together  with  reason,  informs 
us  of,  i.  e.  the  known  course  of  nature  ;  this  is  a  presump- 
tion, that  they  have  both  the  same  author  and  cause  ;  at 
least  so  far  as  to  answer  objections  against  the  former  being 
from  God,  drawn  from  any  thing  which  is  analogical  or  simi- 
lar to  what  is  in  the  latter,  which  is  acknowledged  to  be 
from  him  ;  for  an  Author  of  nature  is  here  supposed. 

Forming  our  notions  of  the  constitution  and  government 
of  the  world  upon  reasoning,  without  foundation  for  the 
principles  which  we  assume,  whether  from  the  attributes  of 
God,  or  any  thing  else,  is  building  a  world  upon  hypothesis, 
like  Des  Cartes.  Forming  our  notions  upon  reasoning  from 
principles  which  are  certain,  but  applied  to  cases  to  which 
we  have  no  ground  to  apply  them,  (like  those  who  explain 
the  structure  of  the  human  body,  and  the  nature  of  diseases 
and  medicines,  from  mere  ma'hematics,  without  sufficient 
data]  is  an  error  much  akin  to  the  former  :  since  what  is  as- 
sumed, in  order  to  make  the  reasoning  applicable,  is  hypothe- 
sis. But  it  must  be  allowed  just,  to  join  abstract  reasoning 
with  the  observation  of  facts,  and  argue  from  such  facts  aa 
are  known,  to  others  ihat  are  like  thorn  ;  from  that  part  of 
the  Divine  government  over  intelligent  creatures,  which 


*  Xp»l  fitv  rot  ye  rtv  drra|  -rapait^aftcvov  r»  «rj<ravro{  TOV  xo<r/ioi>  civai  -a* 
raj  Trtf  Ypaif>af  ir£xei<r6.n  ,  brt  6<ra  vcpi  rijf  KTICTCUS  ainnvra  roij  £ijr»oi  rrr  nft 
firm  Xoyoy,  r«vra  tmi  rtfl  ruv  -yptufx^v.  PhUocal.  p.  23.  Ed,  Cint 


.INTRODUCTION  33 

comes  under  our  view,  to  tha*  larger  and  more  general  go- 
remment  over  them  which  is  beyond  it ;  and  from  what  is 
present,  to  collect  what  is  likely,  credible,  or  not  incredible, 
will  be  hereafter. 

This  method,  then,  of  concluding  and  determining,  being 
practical,  and  what,  if  we  will  act  at  all,  we  cannot  but  act 
upon  in  the  common  pursuits  of  life  ;  being  evidently  con- 
clusive, in  various  degrees,  proportionable  to  the  degree 
and  exactness  of  the  whole  analogy  or  likeness  ;  and  hav- 
ing so  great  authority  for  its  introduction  into  the  subject  of 
religion,  even  revealed  religion,  my  design  is  to  apply  it  to 
that  subject  in  general,  both  natural  and  revealed  ;  taking 
for  proved,  that  there  is  an  intelligent  Author  of  Na- 
ture, and  natural  Governor  of  the  world.  For  as  there  is  no 
presumption  against  this,  prior  to  the  proof  of  it,  so  it  has 
been  often  proved  with  accumulated  evidence  ;  from  this  ar- 
gument of  analogy  and  final  causes  ;  from  abstract  reason- 
ings ;  from  the  most  ancient  tradition  and  testimony ;  and 
from  the  general  consent  of  mankind.  Nor  does  it  appear, 
BO  far  as  I  can  find,  to  be  denied  by  the  generality  of  those 
who  profess  themselves  dissatisfied  with  the  evidence  of 
religion. 

As  there  are* some,  who,  instead  of  thus  attending  to  what 
is  in  fact  the  constitution  of  Nature,  form  their  notions  of 
God's  government  upon  hypothesis  ;  so  there  are  others  who 
indulge  themselves  in  vain  and  idle  speculations,  how  the 
world  might  possibly  have  been  framed  otherwise  than  it  is : 
and  upon  supposition  that  things  might,  in  imagining  that 
they  should,  have  been  disposed  and  carried  on  after  a 
better  model,  than  what  appears  in  the  present  disposition 
a.nd  conduct  of  them.  Suppose,  now,  a  person  of  such  a 
turn  of  mind  to  go  on  with  his  reveries,  till  he  had  at  length 
fixed  upon  some  particular  plan  of  Nature,  as  appearing  to 
him  the  best, — one  shall  scarce  be  thought  guilty  of  detrac- 
tion against  human  understanding,  if  one  should  say,  even 
beforehand,  that  the  plan  which  this  speculative  peison 
would  fix  upon,  though  he  were  the  wisest  of  the  sons  oi 
men,  probably  would  not  be  the  vei'y  best,  even  accor- 
ding to  his  own  notion  of  best ;  whether  he  thought 
that  to  be  so  which  afforded  occasions  and  motives  for  the 
exercise  of  the  greatest  virtue,  or  which  was  productive  of 
the  greatest  happiness,  or  that  these  two  were  necessarily 
connected,  and  run  up  into  one  and  the  same  plan.  How- 
ever it  may  not  be  amiss,  once  for  all,  to  see  what  would  be 


84  INTRODUCTION. 

the  amount  of  these  emendations  and  imaginary  improve- 
ments upon  the  system  of  Nature,  or  how  far  they  would 
mislead  us.  And  it  seems  there  could  be  no  stopping,  till  we 
some  to  some  such  conclusions  as  these: — That  all  crea- 
tures should  at  first  be  made  as  perfect  and  as  happy, 
as  they  were  capable  of  ever  being  ;  that  nothing,  to  be 
sure,  of  hazard  or  danger  should  be  put  upon  them  to 
do  ;  some  indolent  persons  would  perhaps  think,  nothing  at 
all  ;  or  certainly,  that  effectual  care  should  be  taken,  that 
they  should,  whether  necessary  or  not,  yet  eventually  and 
in  fact,  always  do  what,  was  right  and  most  conducive  to 
happiness,  which  would  be  thought  easy  for  infinite  power 
to  effect,  either  by  not  giving  them  any  principles  which 
would  endanger  their  going  wrong,  or  by  laying  the  right 
motive  of  action  in  every  instance,  before  their  minds  con- 
tinually, in  so  strong  a  manner,  as  would  never  fail  of  indu- 
cing them  to  act  conformably  to  it ;  and  that  the  whole 
method  of  government  by  punishments  should  be  rejected 
as  absurd  j  as  an  awkward  round-about  method  of  carrying 
things  on  ;  nay,  as  contrary  to  a  principal  purpose,  for  which 
it  would  be  supposed  creatures  were  made,  namely,  hap- 
piness. 

Now,  without  considering  what  is  to  be  said  in  particu- 
lar to  the  several  parts  of  this  train  of  folly  and  extrava- 
gance, what  has  been  above  intimated  is  a  full,  direct,  gene- 
ral answer  to  it,  namely,  that  we  may  see  beforehand  that 
we  have  not  faculties  for  this  kind  of  speculation.  For 
though  it  be  admitted,  that,  from  the  first  principles  of 
our  nature,  we  unavoidably  judge  or  determine  some  ends 
to  be  absolutely  in  themselves  preferable  to  others,  and 
that  the  ends  now  mentioned,  or  if  they  run  up  into  one, 
that  this  one  is  absolutely  the  best,  and  consequently,  that 
wti  must  conclude  the  ultimate  ends  designed  in  the  con- 
stitution of  nature  and  conduct  of  Providence,  is  the  most 
virtue  ar.d  happiness  possible  ;  yet  we  are  far  from  being 
able  to  judge  what  particular  disposition  of  things  would 
be  most  friendly  and  assistant  to  virtue,  or  what  means 
might  be  absolutely  necessary  to  produce  the  most  happi« 
ness  in  a  system  of  such  extent  as  our  own  world  may  be., 
taking  in  all  that  is  past  and  to  come,  though  we  should 
suppose  it  detached  from  the  whole  of  things.  Indeed,  we 
arc  so  far  from  being  able  to  judge  of  this,  that  we  are  not 
judges  what  may  be  the  necessary  means  of  raising  and 
conducting  one  person  to  the  highest  parfecuon  and  happiness 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

$f  his  nature.  Nay,  even  in  the  little  affairs  of  the  present 
life,  we  fin<l  men  of  different  education  and  ranks  are  not 
competent  judges  of  the  conduct  of  each  other.  Our  whole 
nature  leads  us  to  ascribe  all  moral  perfection  to  God,  and 
to  deny  all  imperfection  in  him.  And  this  will  forever  be  a 
practical  proof  of  his  moral  character,  to  such  as  will  con- 
eider  what  a  practical  proof  is,  because  it  is  the  voice  of 
God  speaking  in  us.  And  from  hence  we  conclude,  that 
virtue  must  be  the  happiness,  and  vice  the  misery,  of  every 
creature  ;  and  that  regularity,  and  order,  and  right,  cannot 
but  prevail,  finally,  in  a  universe  under  his  government. 
But  we  are  in  no  sort  judges  what  are  the  necessary  means 
of  accomplishing  this  end.  \ 

Let  us,  then,  instead  of  that  idle  and  not  very  innocent 
employment  of  forming  imaginary  models  of  a  world,  and 
schemes  of  governing  it,  turn  our  thoughts  to  what  we  ex- 
perience to  be  the  conduct  of  Nature  with  respect  to  intelli- 
gent creatures  ;  which  may  be  resolved  into  general  laws 
or  rules  of  administration,  in  the  same  way  as  many  of  the 
laws  of  Nature,  respecting  inanimate  matter,  may  be  col- 
lected from  experiments.  And  let  us  compare  the  known 
constitution  and  course  of  things  with  what  is  said  to  be  the 
moral  system  of  Nature,  the  acknowledged  dispensations  of 
Providence,  or  that  government  which  we  find  ourselves 
under,  with  what  religion  teaches  us  to  believe  and  expect, 
and  see  whether  they  are  not  analogous,  and  of  a  piece. 
And  upon  such  a  comparison  it  will,  I  think,  be  found,  that 
they  are  very  much  so  ;  that  both  may  be  traced  up  to  the 
same  general  laws,  and  resolved  into  the  same  principles  of 
Divine  conduct. 

The  analogy  here  proposed  to  be  considered,  is  of  pretty 
large  extent,  and  consists  of  several  parts  ;  in  some  more, 
in  others  less,  exact.  In  some  few  instances,  perhaps,  it 
may  amount  to  a  real  practical  proof,  in  others  not  so  ;  yet 
in  these  it  is  a  confirmation  of  what  is  proved  otherwise.  It 
will  undeniably  show,  what  too  many  want  to  have  shown 
them,  that  the  system  of  religion,  both  natural  and  revealed, 
considered  only  as  a  system,  and  prior  to  the  proof  of  it,  is 
not  a  subject  of  ridicule,  unless  that  of  nature  be  so  too. 
An  1  it  will  afford  an  answer  to  almost  all  objections  against 
the  system  both  of  natural  and  of  revealed  religion,  though 
not  perhaps  an  answer  in  so  great  a  degiee,  yet  in  a  very 
considerable  degree  an  answer,  to  the  objections  against  the 
evidence  of  it ;  for,  objections  against  a  proof,  and  objections 
6 


against  what  is  said  to  be  proved,  the  reader  will  observe 
are  different  things. 

Now,  the  divine  government  of  the  world,  implied  in  the 
notion  of  religion  in  general,  and  of  Christianity,  contains 
in  it, — That  mankind  is  appointed  to  live  in  a  future  state  ;* 
that  there  every  one  shall  be  rewarded  or  punished;!  re- 
garded or  punished  respectively  for  all  that  behaviour  here 
which  we  comprehend  under  the  words,  virtuous  or  vicious, 
morally  g  xxl  or  evil :  J  that  our  present  life  is  a  probaiion, 
a  state  of  trial, §  and  of  discipline,  j|  for  that  future  one: 
notwithstanding  the  objections  which  men  may  fancy  thry 
ixive,  from  notions  of  necessity,  against  there  being  uiy 
such  moral  plan  a^  this  at  all; IT  and  whatever  objections 
may  appear  to  lie  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  it,  as 
it  stands  so  imperfectly  made  known  to  us  at  present. :  *  * 
ihat  this  world  being  in  a  state  of  apostacy  and  wickedness, 
and  consequently  of  ruin,  and  the  sense  both  of  their  condi- 
tion and  duty  being  greatly  corrupted  amongst  men,  this 
gave  occasion  for  an  additional  dispensation  of  Providence, 
of  the  utmost  importance,  "f"  "j"  proved  by  miracles,  J  J  but 
containing  in  it  many  things  appearing  to  us  strange,  and 
not  to  have  been  expected  ;  §  §  a  dispensation  of  Providence, 
which  is  a  scheme  or  system  of  things  ||  |j  carried  on  by  ihv 
mediation  of  a  Divine  person,  the  Messiah,  in  order  to  the 
recovery  of  the  world  :  U  IT  ye'  not  revealed  to  all  men,  nor 
proved  With  the  strongest  possible  evidence  to  all  those  to 
whom  it  is  revealed;  but  only  to  such  apart  of  mankind, 
and  with  such  particular  evidence,  as  the  wisdom  of  God 
thought  fit.***  The  design,  then,  of  the  following  Treatise 
will  be  to  show,  that  the  several  parts  principally  objected 
against  in  his  moral  and  Christian  dispensation,  including 
its  scheme,  its  publication,  and  the  proof  which  God  has  af- 
forded us  of  its  truth  ;  that  the  particular  parts  principally 
objected  against  in  thi?  whole  dispensation,  are  analogous  to 
what  is  experienced  in  the  constitution  and  course  of  Nature. 
or  Providence ;  that  the  chief  objections  themselves,  which 
are  alleged  against  the  former,  are  no  oiher  than  what  may 
be  alleged  wiih  like  justness  against  the  latter,  where  they 
are  found  in  fact  to  be  inconclusive ;  and  that,  this  argument 
from  analogy,  is  in  general  unanswerable,  and  undoubtedly 

*Ch  i.  tCh.ii.  tCh.iii. 

5Ch.  ir.  HCh.  v.  1TCh  vi. 

»*Ch.vli  t  f  Part  II.  ch.  i.  «Ch.  ii. 


INTRODUCTION.  87 

of  weight.  OP  the  side  of  reiiffion,*  notwithstanding  the  ob- 
jections which  may  seem  to  lie  against  it,  and  the  real 
ground  which  there  may  be  for  difference  of  opinion  as  lo 
the  particular  degree  of  weight  which  is  to  ue  laid  "Don  it. 
This  is  a  srfineral  account  of  what  may  be  looked  for  in  the 
following  Treatise.  And  I  shall  bo£-in  it  with  that  which  is 
ihe  foundation  of  all  our  hopes,  and  of  all  our  fears — all  our 
hopes  and  fears,  which  aio  of  any  consideration — A  mean, 
«.  future  life, 

•CM* 


THE 

ANALOGY 
OP 

RELIGION 

TO    THE 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  OF  NATURE. 


PART  L 
OP  NATURAL  RELIGION. 

CHAR  L 

Of  a  Future  Life. 

S?TRANCE  difficulties  have  Deen  raised  by  some  concern- 
ing personal  identiiy,  or  the  sameness  of  living  agents,  im- 
plied in  the  notion  of  oar  existing  now  and  hereafter,  or  in 
any  two  successive  moments  ;  which  whoever  thinks  it- 
worth  while,  may  ses  considered  in  the  first  Dissertation  at 
the  end  of  this  Treatise.  But,  without  regard  to  any  of 
them  here,  let  us  consider  what  the  analogy  of  Nature,  and 
.the  several  changes  which  we  have  undergone,  and  those 
which  we  know  we  may  undergo  without  being  destroyed, 
Biiggest,  as  to  the  effect  which  death  may,  or  may  not, 
Have  upon  us ;  and  whether  it  be  not  from  thence  probable, 
that  we  may  survive  this  change,  and  exist  in  a  future  state 
of  life  and  perception. 

1.  From  our  being  born  into  the  present  world  in  the  help- 
less imperfect  state  of  infancj',  and  having  arrived  from 
thence  to  mature  age,  we  find  it  to  be  a  general  law  of  nature 
in  out  own  species,  that  the  same  creatures,  the  same 


40  OF  A  FUTURE  LIFE.  [PART  I« 

individuals,  should  exist  in  degrees  of  life  and  perception, 
with  capacities  of  action,  of  enjoyment,  and  suffering,  in 
one  period  of  their  being,  greatly  different  from  those  ap- 
pointed them  in  another  period  of  it.  And  in  other  creatures 
the  same  law  holds.  For  the  difference  of  their  capacities 
and  states  of  life  at  their  birth  (to  go  no  higher)  and  in  ma« 
Hirity  ;  the  change  of  worms  into  flies,  and  the  vast  enlarge- 
ment of  their  locomotive  powers  by  such  change  ;  and  birds 
and  insects  bursting  the.  shell,  their  habitation,  and  by  this 
means  entering  into  a  new  world,  furnished  with  new  ac- 
commodations for  them  ;  arid  finding  a  new  sphere  of  action 
assigned  them  ; — these  are  instances  of  this  general  law  of 
nature.  Thus,  all  the  various  and  wonderful  transforma- 
tions cf  animals  are  to  be  taken  into  consideration  here. 
But  the  states  of  life  in  which  we  ourselves  existed  for- 
merly, in  the  womb  and  in  our  infancy,  are  almost  as  differ- 
ent from  our  present,  in  mature  age,  as  it  is  possible  to 
conceive  any  two  states  or  degrees  of  life  can  be.  There- 
fore, that  we  are  to  exist  hereafter  in  a  state  as  different 
(suppose)  from  our  present,  as  this  is  from  our  former,  is  but 
according  to  the  analogy  of  nature  ;  according  to  a  natural 
order  or  appointment,  of  the  very  same  kind  with  what  we 
have  already  experienced. 

II.  We  know  we  are  endued  with  capacities  of  action,  of 
happiness,  and  misery ;  fur  we  are  conscious  of  acting,  of 
enjoying  pleasure,  and  suffering  pain.  Now,  that  \ve  have 
these  powers  and  capacities  before  death,  is  a  presumption 
that  we  shall  retain  them  through  ami  afier  death  ;  indeed, 
a  probability  of  it  abundantly  sufficient  to  act  upon,  unless 
there  be  some  positive  reason  to  think  that  death  is  the  de 
stru:;tion  of  those  living  powers;  because  there  is  in  every 
case  a  probability,  that  all  things  will  continue  as  we  expe- 
rience they  are,  in  all  respects,  except  those  in  whi<  h  we 
have  some  reason  to  think  they  will  be  altered.  This  ia 
that  kind*  of  presumption,  or  probability,  from  analogy, 
expressed  in  the  very  word  continuance,  which  seems  our 
only  natural  reason  for  believing  the  course  of  the  world  will 
continue  to-morrow,  as  it  has  done  so  far  as  our  experience 
or  knowledge  of  history  can  carry  us  back.  Nay,  it  seems 
our  only  reason  for  believing,  that  any  one  substance,  now 

*  I  say  kind  of  presumption  or  probability  ;  for  1  do  not  mean  to  affirm, 
lh;it  there  is  the  same  degree  of  conviction  that  our  living  powers  will  cui> 
tiuue  after  death,  as  there  is,  that  cur  subs'Hiwcs  will. 


CHAP.    I.]  OP    A    FUTURE    LIFE.  41 

existing,  will  continue  to  exist  a  moment  longer  ;  ;he  self- 
existent  subs  tvnce  only  exrepted.  Thus,  if  rnen  \vere  as- 
sured that  the  unknown  event,  death,  was  not  the  destruc- 
tion of  our  faculties  of  perception  and  of  action,  there  woxiki 
be  no  apprehension  that  any  other  power  or  event,  uncon- 
nected \viih  this  of  death,  would  destroy  these  faculties  just 
a',  the  instant  of  each  creature's  death  ;  ard  therefore  no 
imibt  but  that  they  would  remain  after  it :  which  shovs 
*he  high  probability  that  our  living  powers  will  continue 
ufter  death,  unless  there  be  some  ground  to  think  that  death 
is  i  heir  destruction.*  For,  if  it  would  be  in  a  manner  certain 
that  we  should  survive  death,  provided  it  were  certain  that 
death  \vould  not  be  our  destruction,  it  must  be  highly  proba- 
ble we  shall  survive  it,  if  there  l»e  no  ground  to  think  death 
will  lie  our  destruction. 

Now,  though  1  ihir.k  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  prior 
io  the  natural  and  moral  proofs  of  a  future  life  commonly 
insisted  upon,  there  would  arise  a  general  confused  sufpi- 
cion,  thai,  in  the  great  shock  and  alteration  which  we  thai! 
undergo  by  death,  we,  i.  e.  our  living  powers,  might  be 
wholly  destroyed ;  yet  even  prior  to  those  proof?,  there  is 
really  no  particular  distinct  ground,  or  reason,  for  this  appre- 
hension at  all,  so  far  as  1  can  find.  If  there  be,  it  must 
arise  either  from  the  reason  of  the  thing,  or  fiorn  the  analogy 
of  Nature. 

But  we  cannot  argue  from  the  reason  of  the  thing,  that 
death  is  the  destruction  of  living  agents,  because  we  know 
not  at  all  what,  death  is  in  itself;  but  only  some  of  its  effects, 
such  as  the  dissolution  of  flesh,  skin,  and  bones  :  and  these 
eliects  do  in  no  wise  appear  to  imply  the  destruction  of  a 
living  agent.  And,  besides,  as  we  are  greatly  in  the  dark 
upon  what  the  exeicice  of  O'jr  living  powers  -'epends,  so  we 
arc  wholly  ignorant  what  the  poweis  themselves  depend 
upon ;  the  powers  themselves,  as  distinguished,  not  or.ly 

*  Destruction  of  lit  ing  powers,  is  a  manner  of  expression  unavokkiMy 
ftiiibi^uous;  and  n.ay  sigmtv  cither  the  destruction  i:f  a  licing  being,  eo 
«  lhat  tilt'  same  liriiig  being  yliull  Le  incapable  iij  ever  pcrceiring  cr 
'.•ting  again  at  all ;  or  the  destruction  uf  tlmsc  means  and  instrnmeiitt 
hy  irliii-/i  it  is  capable  uf  Us  present  life,  of  Us  presort  slaleuj"  pereejitmn 
in:i  iif'n> I iuii.  It  is  In  re  i  ml  in  tl.e  tcrn.er  sense.  'W  .rn  it  is  m>ed  iiith«' 
latter,  (In1  epithet  present  is  uddi'd.  'i  lie  iosst  i'a  ji  ai.'s  t-)0  is  n  drst ruction 
A  'living  poAorti  in  the  latter  sense.  But  \ve  have  no  TVUMJII  to  think  ll.e  de- 
ftriiciimi  <>r  livin;:  powers,  in  the  loriner  sense,  to  l«'  nossilile.  U'e  have  no 
mort1  reusoii  to  Chink  a  lx.'in^,  endued  with  living  [lower.-,  ever  loses  iliem 
junn;;  its  waole  eiistence,  tliaii  to  believe  thai  a  stone  evi-r  acuuires  them. 


42  of  A  rurun^  LIFE.  [CFAP.  *. 

from  their  actual  exercise,  but  also  from  the  present  capaci- 
ty of  exercising  them  ;  and  opposed  to  their  destruction  ; 
for  sleep,  or,  however,  a  swoon,  shows  us,  not  only  that 
these  powers  exist  when  they  are  not  exercised,  as  the 
passive  power  of  motion  does  in  inanimate  matter  ;  but 
shows  also  that  they  exist,  when  there  is  no  present  capa- 
city of  exercising  them  ;  or  that  the  capacities  of  exercising 
them  for  the  present,  as  well  as  the  actual  exercise  of  them, 
may  be  suspended,  and  yet  the  powers  themselves  remain 
undestroyed.  Since,  then,  we  know  not  at  all  upon  what 
the  existence  of  our  living  powers  depends,  this  shows  fur- 
ther, there  can  no  probability  be  collected  from  the  reason 
of  the  thing,  that  death  will  be  their  destruction  :  because 
their  existence  may  depend  upon  somewhat  in  no  degree 
affected  by  death  ;  upon  somewhat  quite  out  of  the  reach  of 
this  king  of  terrors.  So  that  there  is  nothing  more  certain, 
than  that  the  reason  of  the  thing  shows  us  no  connexion 
between  death  and  the  destruction  of  living  agents.  Nor 
can  we  find  any  thing  throughout  the  whole  analogy  oj 
Nature,  to  afford  us  even  the  slightest  presumption,  that 
animals  ever  lose  their  living  powers  ;  much  less,  if  it  were 
possible,  that  they  lose  them  by  death  ;  for  we  have  no 
faculties  wherewith  to  trace  any  beyond  or  through  it,  so  as 
to  see  what  becomes  of  them.  This  event  removes  them 
from  our  view.  It  destroys  the  sensible  proof,  which  we  had 
before  their  death,  of  their  being  possessed  of  living  powers, 
but  does  not  appear  to  afford  the  least  reason  to  believe, 
that  they  are  then,  or  by  that  event,  deprived  of  them. 

And  our  knowing,  that  they  were  possessed  of  these 
powers,  up  to  the  very  period  to  which  we  have  faculties 
capable  of  tracing  them,  is  itself  a  probability  of  their  retain- 
ing them  beyond  it.  And  this  is  confirmed,  and  a  sensible 
credibility  is  given  to  it,  by  observing  the  very  great  and 
astonishing  changes  which  we  have  experienced  ;  so  great, 
that  our  existence  in  another  state  of  life,  of  perception  and 
of  action,  will  be  but  according  to  a  method  of  providential 
conduct,  the  like  to  which  has  been  already  exercised,  even 
with  regard  to  ourselves  ;  according  to  a  course  of  nature, 
the  like  to  which  we  have  already  gone  through. 

However,  as  one  cannot  but  be  great ly  sensible,  how 
difficult  it  is  to  silence  imagination  enough  to  make  the 
voice  of  reason  even  distinctly  heard  in  this  case  ;  as  we  are 
accustomed,  from  our  youth  up,  to  indulge  that  fbrwerd 
delusive  faculty,  ever  obtruding  beyond  its  sphere  ;  of  some 


PART   I.]  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFE.  43 

assistance,  indeed,  to  apprehension,  tut  the  author  of  all 
error :  as  we  plainly  lose  ourselves  in  tr TOSS  and  crude  con- 
ceptions of  things,  taking  for  granted  that  we  are  acquaint' 
ed  with  what  indeed  we  are  wholly  ignorant  of;  it  may  be 
proper  to  consider  the  imaginary  presumptions,  that  death 
will  be  our  destruction,  arising  from  these  kinds  of  early  and 
Ksting  prejudices ;  and  to  show  how  little  they  can  really 
amount  to,  even  though  we  cannot  wholly  divest  ourselves 
of  them.  And 

1.  All  presumption  of  death's  being  the  destruction  of  liv- 
ing beings,  must  go  upon  supposition  that  they  are  com- 
pounded, and  so  discerptible.  But,  since  consciousness  is  a 
single  and  individual  power,  it  should  seem  that  the  subject 
in  which  it  resides,  must  be  so  too.  For,  were  the  motion 
of  any  particle  of  matter  absolutely  one  and  indivisible,  so  as 
that  it  should  imply  a  contradiction  to  suppose  part  of  this 
motion  to  exist,  and  part  not  to  exist  i.  e.  part  of  this  matter 
to  move,  and  part  to  be  at  rest ;  then  its  power  of  motion 
would  be  indivisible  ;  and  so  also  would  the  subject  in  which 
the  power  inheres,  namely,  the  particle  of  matter  :  for,  if 
this  could  be  divided  into  two,  one  part  might  be  moved  and 
the  other  at  rest,  which  is  contrary  to  the  supposition.  In 
like  manner,  it  has  been  argued,  *  and,  for  any  thing  ap- 
pearing to  the  contrary,  justly,  that  since  the  perception,  or 
consciousness,  which  we  have  of  our  own  existence  is  indi- 
visible, so  as  that  it.  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose  one  part  of 
it  should  be  here  and  the  other  there  ;  the  perceptive  power, 
or  the  power  of  consciousness,  is  indivisible  too  :  and,  conse- 
quently, the  subject  in  which  it  resides,  i.  e.  the  conscious 
being.  Now,  upon  supposition  that  Jiving  agent  each  man 
calis  himself,'  is  thus  a  single  being,  which  there  is  at  least 
no  more  difficulty  in  conceiving  than  in  conceiving  it  to  be  a 
compound,  and  of  which  there  is  the  proof  now  mentioned ; 
it  follows,  that  our  organized  bodies  are  no  more  ourselves, 
^r  part  of  ourselves,  than  any  other  matter  around  us.  And 
i*.  is  as  easy  to  conceive  how  matter,  which  is  no  part  of 
ourselves,  may  be  appropriated  to  us  in  the  manner  which 
our  present  bodies  are,  as  how  we  can  receive  impressions 
from,  and  have  power  over  any  matter.  It  is  as  easy  to 
conceive,  that  we  may  exist  out  of  bodies,  as  in  them  ;  that 
wo  might  have  animated  bodies  of  any  other  organs  arid 
senses  wholly  different  from  these  now  given  us,  and  that 

*  SM  Dr  Clarke's  Letter  to  Mt  Dodwcll,  an<J  the  Defences  of  it, 
5* 


44  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFE.  [CHAP,    1 

we  may  Hereafter  animate  these  same  or  new  bodies  vari- 
ously modified  and  organized,  as  to  conceive  ho\v  we  can 
animate  such  bodies  as  our  present.  And,  lastly,  ihe  disso- 
lution of  all  these  several  organized  bodies,  supposing  our- 
selves to  have  successively  animated  them,  would  have  no 
more  conceivable  tendency  to  destroy  the  living  beings,  our- 
selves, or  deprive  us  of  living  faculties,  the  faculties  of  per- 
ception and  of  action,  than  the  dissolution  of  any  foreign 
matter,  which  we  are  capable  of  receiving  impressions  from, 
and  making  use  of  for  the  common  occasions  of  life. 

II.  The  simplicity  and  absolute  oneness  of  a  living  agent 
cannot,  indeed,  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  be  properly 
proved  by  experimental  observations.  But  as  these  fall 
in  with  the  supposition  of  its  unity,  so  they  plainly  lead  us 
to  conclude  certainly,  that  our  gross  organized  bodies,  with 
which  we  perceive  the  objects  of  sense,  and  with  which  we 
act,  are  no  part  of  ourselves,  and  therefore  show  us,  that 
we  have  no  reason  to  believe  their  destruction  to  be  ours  ; 
even  without  determining  whether  our  living  substances  be 
material  or  immaterial.  For  we  see  by  experience,  that 
men  may  lose  their  limbs,  their  organs  of  sense,  and  even 
the  greatest  part  of  these  bodies,  and  yet  remain  the  same 
living  agents  :  And  persons  can  trace  up  the  existence  of 
themselves  to  a  time  when  the  bulk  of  their  bodies  was  ex- 
tremely small,  in  comparison  of  what  it  is  in  mature  age ; 
and  we  cannot  but  think,  that  they  might  then  have  lost  a 
considerable  part  of  that  small  body,  and  yet  have  remained 
the  same  living  agents,  as  they  may  now  lose  great  part  ol 
their  present  body,  and  remain  so.  And  it  is  certain,  that 
the  bodies  of  all  animals  are  in  a  constant  flux,  from  that 
never  ceasing  attrition  which  there  is  in  every  part  of  them. 
Now,  things  of  this  kind  unavoidably  teach  us  to  distinguish 
between  these  living  agents,  ourselves,  and  large  quantities 
of  matter,  in  which  we  are  very  nearly  interested :  since 
these  may  be  alienated,  and  actually  are  in  a  daily  course 
of  succession,  and  changing  their  owners ;  whilst  we  arc 
assured,  that  each  living  agent  remains  one  and  the  same 
permanent  being.*  And  this  general  observation  leads  us 
on  to  the  following  ones. 

First,  That  we  have  no  way  of  determining  bv  expe- 
rience, what  is  the  certain  bulk  of  the  living  being  each 
man  calls  himself;  and  yet,  till  it  be  determined  that  it  is 

•  See  Dissertation  I. 


I.J  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFL  4j 

lurgoi  in  lurfk  than  the  solid  elemental^*  parties  of  matter, 
which  there  is  no  ground  to  think  any  natural  power  can 
dissolve,  there  is  no  sort  of  reason  to  think  death  to  be  the 
dissolution  of  it,  of  the  living  being,  even  though  it,  should 
not  lie  absolutely  indiscerptible. 

SscmMy,  From  our  being  so  nearly  related  to,  ami  inter- 
ested in  certain  systems  of  matter,  suppose  our  flesh  and 
bores,  afterwards  ceasing  to  be  at  all  related  to  them,  the 
livi  :g  agents,  ourselves,  remaining  all  this  while  undestioy- 
cd,  notwithstanding  such  alienations  :  and  consequently 
•these  systems  of  mutter  not  being  ourselves  ;  it  follows  fur- 
ther, that  we  have  no  ground  to  conclude  any  other,  suppose 
internal  systems  of  matter,  to  be  the  living  agents  ourselves  ; 
because  we  can  have  no  ground  to  conclude  this,  but  from 
our  relation  to,  and  interest  in  such  other  systems  of  matter  : 
and,  therefore,  we  can  have  no  reason  to  conclude,  what 
befalls  those  systems  of  matter  at  death,  to  be  the  destruction 
of  the  living  agent?.  We  have  already,  several  times  over, 
lost  a  great  part,  or  perhaps  the  whole  of  our  body,  accord- 
ing to  certain  common  established  laws  of  nature  ;  yet  we 
remain  the  same  living  agents  :  when  we  shall  lose  as  great 
a  part,  or  the  whole,  by  another  common  established  law  of 
nature,  death,  why  may  we  not  also  remain  the  samt- 1- 
That  tha  alienation  has  been  gradual  in  one  case,  and  in  the 
o'her  will  be  more  at  once,  does  not  prove  any  thing  to  the 
contrary.  We  have  passed  undestroyed  through  those 
many  and  great  revolutions  of  matter,  so  peculiarly  appro 
priated  to  ourselves  ;  why  should  we  imagine  death  would 
be  so  fatal  to  us  'I  Nor  can  it.  be  objected,  that  what  is  thus 
alienated,  or  lost,  is  no  part  of  our  original  solid  body,  but 
only  adventitious  matter ;  because  we  may  lose  entire  limbs, 
which  must  have  contained  many  solid  parts  and  vessels  of 
the  original  body:  01  if  this  be  not  admitted,  we  have  no 
proof 'hat  any  of  these  solid  parts  are  dissolved  or  alienated 
by  death  ;  though,  by  the  way,  we  are  very  nearly  related 
10  that  extianeous  or  adventitious  matter,  whilst  it  continues 
united  '.o  and  distending  the  several  parts  of  our  solid  body. 
But,  after  all.  the  relation  a  person  bears  to  those  parts  of 
hi  ?  body  to  which  he  is  the  most  nearly  related,  what  does 
it  appear  to  amount  to  but  this,  that  the  living  agent  and 
'.hose  paits  of  the  body  mutually  affect  each  other  1  And 
che  same  thing,  the  same  thing  in  kind,  though  not  in  de- 
jrcc,  inay  be  said  of  all  Joreign  matter,  which  gives  ua 
»j  and  which  we  have  any  power  cn'er.  From  tUea> 


46  OF    A    FT7TURK    LIFE.  [PART  I 

observations  the  whole  ground  of  the  imagi  nation  is  remov- 
ed, that  the  dissolution  of  any  matter  is  the  destruction  of 
a  living  agent,  from  the  interest  he  once  had  in  such  matter. 
Tiiirdly,  If  we  consider  our  body  somewhat  move  distinct- 
ly, as  made  up  of  organs  and  instruments  of  perception  and 
of  motion,  it  will  bring  us  to  the  same  conclusion.  Thus, 
the  common  optical  experiments  show,  and  even  the  obser- 
vation how  sight  is  assisted  by  glasses  shows,  that  we  see 
with  our  eyes  in  the  same  sense  as  we  see  with  glasses. 
Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  believe,  that  we  see  with  them  in 
any  other  sense  ;  any  other,  I  mean,  which  would  lead  us 
to  think  the  eye  itself  a  percipient.  The  like  is  to  be  said 
of  hearing:  and  our  feeling  distant  solid  matter  by  means 
of  somewhat  in  our  hand,  seems  an  instance  of  the  like  kind, 
as  to  the  subject  we  are  considering.  All  these  are  instances 
of  foreign  matter,  or  such  as  is  no  part  of  our  body,  being 
instrumental  in  preparing  objects  for,  and  conveying  them  to 
the  perceiving  power,  in  a  manner  similar,  or  like  to  the 
manner  in  which  our  organs  of  sense  prepare  and  convev. 
them.  Both  are,  in  a  like  way,  instruments  of  our  receiv- 
ing such  ideas  from  external  objects,  as  the  Author  of  na- 
ture appointed  those  external  objects  to  be  the  occasions  of 
exciting  in  us.  However,  glasses  are  evidently  instances 
of  this  ;  namely,  of  matter,  which  is  no  part  of  our  body,  pre- 
paring objects  for.  and  convej'ing  them  towards  the  perceiv- 
ing power,  in  like  manner  as  our  bodily  organs  do.  And  if 
we  see  with  our  eyes  only  in  the  same  manner  as  we  do  with 
glasses,  the  like  may  justly  be  concluded  from  analogy,  of 
all  our  other  senses.  It  is  not  intended,  lay  any  thing  hero 
said,  to  affirm,  that  the  whole  apparatus  of  vision,  cr  of  per 
ception  by  any  other  of  our  senses,  can  be  traced,  through 
all  its  steps,  quite  up  to  the  living  power  of  seeing,  or  per- 
ceiving ;  but  that,  so  far  as  it  cat}  be  traced  by  experimental 
observations,  so  far  it  appears,  that  our  organs  of  sense  pre- 
pare and  convey  on  objects,  in  order  to  their  being  perceived, 
in  like  manner  as  foreign  matter  does,  without  affording  any 
shadow  of  appearance,  that  they  themselves  rerceive  And 
that  we  have  no  reason  to  think  our  organs  of  sense  perci- 
pients, is  confirmed  by  instances  of  persons  losing  some  of 
them,  the  living  beings  themselves,  their  former  occupiers 
remaining  unimpaired.  It  is  confirmed  also  by  the  ex  peri 
encc  of  dreams  ;  by  which  we  find  we  are  at  present  pos- 
sessed of  a  latent,  and  what  would  otherwise  be  an  unima- 
gined  unknown  power  of  perceiving  sensible  objects,  in  aa 


CHAP.  I.]  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFE.  47 

strong  and  lively  a  manner  without  our  external  organs  of 
sense,  .is  with  them. 

So  also  'with  regard  to  our  power,  of  moving,  or  directing 
motion  by  will  and  choice  :  upon  the  destruction  cf  a  limb, 
this  active  power  remains,  as  it  evidently  seerns,  unlessencd  ; 
BO  as  that  the  living  being,  who  has  suffered  this  loss,  \\  IUM 
be  capable  of  moving  as  before,  if  it  had  another  limb  to 
moiewith.  It  can  walk  by  the  help  of  an  artificial  leg, 
just  as  it  can  make  use  of  a  pole  or  a  lever,  to  reach  towards 
i.self  and  to  move  things  beyond  the  length  and  the  power 
of  its  natural  arm :  and  ihis  last  it  does  in  the  same  manner 
as  ii  reaches  and  moves,  with  its  natural  arm,  things  nearer 
and  of  less  weight.  Nor  is  there  so  much  as  any  appear- 
ance of  our  limbs  being  endued  with  a  power  of  moving  01 
directing  themselves  ;  though  they  are  adapted,  like  (he  se- 
veral parts  of  a  machine,  to  be  the  instruments  of  motion  to 
each  other  ;  and  some  parts  of  the  same  lirnb,  to  be  instru- 
ments of  motion  to  the  other  parts  of  it. 

Thus, 'a  man  determines  thai  he  will  look  at  such  an  ob- 
ject through  a  microscope  ;  or,  being  lame  suppose,  that  he 
will  walk  to  such  a  place  with  a  staff  a  week  hence.  His 
eyes  and  his  feet  no  more  determine  in  these  cases,  than  the 
microscope  and  the  staff.  Nor  is  there  any  ground  to  ;hmk 
they  any  more  put  the  determination  in  the  practice,  or  thai 
his  eyes  are  the  seers,  or  his  feet  the  movers,  in  any  oilier 
fiense  than  as  the  microscope  and  the  staff  are.  Upon  the 
whole,  then,  our  organs  of  sense  and  our  limbs  are  certainly 
instruments,  which  ihe  living  pers-ons,  ourselves,  make  use 
of  to  perceive  and  move  with.  There  is  not  any  probability, 
that  the}' arc  any  more :  nor,  consequently,  that  we  have 
any  other  kind  of  relation  to  them,  than  what  we  may  have 
to  any  other  foreign  matter  formed  into  instruments  of  per- 
ception and  motion,  suppose  into  a  microscope  or  a  si  aft  (I 
Bay,  any  other  kind  of  relation,  for  I  am  not  speaking  of  jne 
degree  of  it ;  nor,  consequently,  is  there  any  probability, 
that  the  alienation  or  dissolution  of  these  insiruments  is  tli3 
destruction  of  the  perceiving  and  moving  agent. 

And  thus  our  finding,  that  the  dissolution  of  matter  ir. 
which  living  beings  were  most  nearly  interested,  is  not  their 
dissolution  ;  and  that,  the  destruction  of  several  of  ihe  or- 
grns  and  instruments  of  perception  and  of  n  otion  belong- 
ing i.o  iLfin,  is  not  their  destruction  ;  shows,  demonstrative- 
ly, that  there  is  no  ground  to  think,  that  the  dissolution 
of  any  other  matter  or  destruction  of  any  other  organs 


48  OF    A    FTJTUKE    LIFE.  |_I'AKT  I 

ami  instruments,  will  be  the  dissolution  or  destruction 
of  living  agents,  from  the  like  kind  of  relation.  And  \ve 
have  no  reason  to  think  we  siiind  in  any  other  kind  of 
rsktion  to  any  thing1  which  we  find  dissolved  by  death. 

B'-it  it  is  said,  the^e  observations  are  equally  applicable  tc 
hr-.,te..- ;  an  1  it  is  thought  an  insuperable  difficulty,  that 
ihet  should  be  immortal,  and,  by  consequence,  capable  of 
everlasting  happiness.  Now,  this  inunnei  of  expression  it 
Lo:L  invidious  and  weak  :  but  the  thing  intended  by  it,  is 
redly  no  difficulty  at  all,  either  in  the  way  of  natural  or 
moral  consideration..  For,  1st,  Suppose  the  invidious  thing; 
designed  in  such  a  manner  of  expression,  were  really  im- 
plied, as  it  is  not  in  the  least,  in  the  natural  immortality  of 
brutes  ;  namely,  that  they  must  arrive  at  great  attainments, 
an  1  become  rational  and  moral  agents  ;  even  this  would  be 
no  diffic ulty,  since  we  know  not  what  latent  powers  and 
capacities  they  may  be  endued  wiih.  There  was  once,  pri 
or  to  experience,  as  great  presumption  against  human  crea- 
tures, as  there  is  against  the  brute  creatures,  arriving  a*, 
that  degree  of  understanding  which  we  have  in  mature  age  ; 
for  we  can  trace  up  our  own  existance  to  the  same  original 
with  theirs.  And  we  find  it  to  be  a  general  law  of  nature, 
that  creatures  endued  with,  capacities  of  virtue  and  religion, 
should  be  placed  in  a  dominion  of  being,  in  which  they  are 
altogether  without  the  use  of  them  for  a  considerable  length 
of  their  duration,  as  in  infancy  and  childhood.  And  great 
part  of  the  human  species  go  out  of  the  present  world,  be- 
fore they  come  to  the  exercise  of  these  capacities  in  any  de- 
gree at  all.  But  then,  2dly,  The  natural  immortality  of 
brutes  does  not  in  the  least  imply,  that  they  are  endued  with 
any  latent  capacities  of  a  rational  or  moral  nature.  And 
the  economy  of  the  universe  might  require,  that  there  should 
be  living  creatures  without  any  capacities  of  this  kind.. 
And  all  difficulties,  as  to  the  manner  how  they  are  to  be  dis- 
posed of,  are  so  apparently  and  wholly  founded  on  our  igro- 
ranee,  thai  it  is  wonderful  they  should  be  insistedupon  by  any 
but  such  as  are  weak  enough  to  think  they  are  acquainted 
will,  thy  whole  system  of  things.  There  is,  then,  absolute- 
ly nothing  at  all  in  this  objection,  which  is  so  rhetorically 
urged  against  the  greatest  part  of  the  natural  proofs  O''  pre- 
8iunp;ions  of  the  immortality  of  human  minds  :  I  say  the 
greatest  p.irt  ;  fur  it.  is  less  applicable  to  the  following-  ob- 
servation, which  is  more  peculiar  to  mankind  : — 

111.  That  as  it  is  evident  our  present  powers  aid  capaci- 


CHAP.  I.]  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFE. 

tics  of  reason,  memory,  and  affection,  do  not  depend  upon 
o»;r  gross  body,  in  the  manner  in  which  perception  bv  our 
organs  of  sense  does  ;  so  they  do  not  appear  to  depend  upon 
it  at  all  in  any  such  manner,  as  to  give  ground  to  think,  that 
the  dissolution  of  this  body  will  be  the  destruction  of  tlie.se 
our  present  powers  of  reflection,  as  it  \vili  of  our  powers  of 
wmsuiion  ;  or  to  give  ground  to  conclude,  even  that  it  \\vlJ 
be  so  much  as  a  suspension  of  the  former. 

Human  creatures  exist  at  present  in  two  states  of  life 
ar.d  perception,  greatly  different  from  each  other  ;  each  of 
which  has  its  own  peculiar  laws,  and  its  o  vn  peculiar  en- 
joyments and  sufferings.  When  any  of  our  senses  are 
affected,  or  appetites  gratified  with  the  objects  of  them,  we 
may  be  said  to  exist,  or  live,  in  a  state  of  sensation.  When 
none  of  our  senses  are  affected,  or  appetites  gratified,  and 
yet  we  parceive,  and  reason,  and  act,  we  may  be  said  to  ex- 
ist, or  live,  in  a  state  of  reflection.  Now  r  is  by  no  means 
sen  a  in,  that  any  thing  which  is  dissolved  by  death  is  any 
way  necessary  to  the  living  being,  in  this  its  state  of  reflec- 
tion, after  ideas  are  gained.  For  though,  from  our  present 
constitution  and  condition  of  being,  onr  external  organs  of 
rensc  are  necessary  for  conveying  in  ideas  to  our  reflecting 
/owers,  as  carriages,  and  levers,  and  scaffolds  are  in  archi- 
tecture ;  yet,  when  these  ideas  are  brought  in,  we  are  capa- 
ble of  reflecting  in  the  most  intense  degree,  and  of  enjoying 
the  greatest  pleasure,  and  feeling  the  greatest  pain,  by 
means  of  that  reflection,  without  any  assistance  from  our 
senses ;  and  without  any  at  all,  which  we  know  of,  from 
that  body,  which  will  be  dissolved  by  death.  It  does  not 
appear,  then,  that  the  relation  of  this  gross  body  to  the  re- 
flecting being,  is  in  any  degree,  necessary  to  thinking  ;  to 
our  intellectual  enjoyments  or  sufferings  :  nor,  consequently, 
ihat  the  dissolution,  or  alienation  of  the  former  by  death,  will 
be  the  destruction  of  those  present  powers,  which  render  us 
capable  of  this  state  of  reflection.  Further,  there  are  in- 
stances of  moral  diseases,  which  do  not  at  ali  affect  our 
present  intellectual  powers ;  and  this  affords  a  presumption, 
that  those  diseases  will  not  destroy  these  present  powers. 
Indeed,  from  the  observations  made  above,  it  appears,  that 
there  is  no  presumption,  from  their  mutually  affecting  each 
other,  that  the  dissolution  of  the  body  is  the  destruction  of 


50  OF   A   FUTURE    LIFE.  [PART   1 

the  living  agent.  And  by  the  same  reasoning  it  must  aj> 
pear,  loo,  that  there  is  no  prcsump:ion,  from  their  mutually 
affecting  each  other,  that  the  dissolution  of  the  body  is  the 
destruction  of  our  present  reflecting  powers  ;  but  instances 
of  their  not  affecting  each  other,  afford  a  presumption  of  the 
contrary.  Instances  of  mortal  disease  not  impairing  our 
present  reflecting  powers,  evidently  turn  our  thoughts  even 
finm  imagining  such  diseases  to  be  the  destruction  of  them. 
Sevi-ial  tilings,  indeed,  greatly  affect  all  our  living  powers, 
and  at  length,  suspend  the  exercise  of  them  ;  as,  for  in- 
stancp,  drowsiness,  increasing  till  it  ends  in  sound  sleep : 
and  from  hence  we  might  have  imagined  it  would  destroy 
thorn,  lill  we  found,  by  experience,  the  weakness  of  this  way 
of  Ridging.  But,  in  the  diseases  now  mentioned,  there  is  not 
so  much  as  the  shadow,  of  probability,  to  lead  us  to  any 
such  conclusion,  as  to  the  reflecting  powers  which  we  have 
at  present ;  for,  in  those  diseases,  persons  the  moment  before 
death  appear  to  be  in  the  highest  vigor  of  life.  They  dis- 
cover apprehension,  memory,  reason,  all  ei.tire ;  with  the 
utmost  force  of  affection  j  sense  of  a  character,  of  shame 
and  honor  ;  and  the  highest  mental  enjoyments  and  suffer- 
ings, even  to  the  last  gasp  :  and  these  surely  prove  even 
greater  vigor  of  life  than  bodily  strength  does.  Now,  what 
pretence  is  there  for  thinking,  that  a  progressive  disease, 
when  arrived  to  such  a  degree,  I  mean  that  degree  vbich 
is  mortal,  will  destroy  those  powers,  which  were  not  impair- 
ed, which  were  not  affected  by  it,  during  its  whole  progress, 
quite  up  to  that  degree?  And  if  death,  by  diseases  of  this 
kind,  is  not  the  destruction  of  our  present  reflecting  powers, 
it  will  scarce  be  thought  that  death  by  any  other  means  is. 
Ii  is  obvious  that  this  general  observation  may  be  carried 
on  further:  and  there  appears  so  little  connexion  between 
our  bodily  powers  of  sensation,  and  our  present  powers  of 
reflection,  that  there  is  no  reason  to  conclude  that  death, 
which  destroys  the  former,  does  so  much  as  suspend  the 
exercise  of  the  1  xtter,  or  interrupt  our  continuing  to  exist  in 
•he  like  state  of  reflection  which  we  do  now.  For,  suspen- 
sion of  reason,  memory,  and  the  affections  which  they  ex- 
cite, is  no  part  of  the  idea  of  death,  nor  is  implied  in  our 
notion  of  it.  And  our  daily  experiencing  these  powers  to  b« 
exerc.sed,  without  any  assistance,  that  we  know  of.  fronj 
those  bodies  which  will  Le  dissolved  by  death  :  and  our  find 
ing  often,  that  the  exercise  of  them  is  so  lively  to  the  last ; — 
these  things  afford  a  sensible  apprehension,  that  death  maj 


CHAP.    I.]  OF    A    FUTURE    LIFE.  51 

not  perhaps  be  so  much  as  a  discontinuance  of  the  exeicis*. 
of  these  powers,  nor  of  the  enjoyments  and  sufferings  which 
it  implies;*  so  that  our  posthumous  life,  whatever  there  may 
be  in  it  additional  to  oui  present,  yet  may  not  be  entirely  be- 
trim  ling  anew,  but  going  on.  Death  may,  in  some  sort,  and 
in  some  respects,  answer  to  our  birth,  which  is  not  a  sus- 
pension of  the  faculties  which  we  had  before  it.  or  a  total 
change  of  the  state  of  iife  in  which  we  existed  when  in  the 
womb,  but  a  continuation  of  both,  with  such  and  such  great 
alterations. 

Nay,  for  ought  we  know  of  ourselves,  of  our  present  life, 
and  of  death,  death  may  immediately,  in  the  natural  course 
of  things,  pui  us  info  a  higher  and  more  enlarged  stale  ol 
life,  as  our  birth  does  ;t  a  state  in  which  our  capacities  nnd 
sphere  of  perception,  and  of  action,  may  be  much  greater 
than  at  present.  For,  as  our  relation  to  our  external  organs 
of  sense  renders  us  capable  of  existing  in  our  present  state 
of  sensation,  so  it  may  be  tho  only  natliral  hindrance  to  our 
existing,  immediately  and  of  course,  in  a  higher  state  of  re- 
flection. The  truth  is,  reason  does  not  at  all  show  us  in 
what  state  death  naturally  leaves  us.  But  were  we  sure 
that  it  would  suspend  all  our  perceptive  and  active  powers, 
yet  the  suspension  of  a  power,  and  the  destruction  of  it,  are 
effects  so  totally  different  in  kind,  as  we  experience  from 
sleep  and  a  swoon,  that  we  cannot  in  any  wise  argue  from 
one  10  the  other ;  or  conclude,  even  to  the  lowest  decree  of 
probability,  that  the  same  kind  of  force  which  is  sufficient  to 
suspend  our  faculties,  though  it  be  increased  ever  so  much, 
\v'Jl  be  sufficient  to  destroy  them. 

These  observations  together  maybe  sufficient  to  show, 
how  little  presumption  there  is  that  death  is  the  destruction 

*  There  are  three  distinct  questions,  minting  to  a  future  life,  hero  con- 
sidered: Whether  death  lie  the  destruction  of  living  agents?  If  not, 
Whether  it  be  the  destruction  of  their  present  powers  of  reflection,  as  it 
KTtainly  is  the  destruction  of  thoir  present  powers  of  sensation  ?  And  if 
not,  Whether  it  be  the  suspension,  or  discontinuance  of  the  exercise,  of 
ihese  present  refli  ain<r  powers  ?  Now,  if  there  be  no  reason  t<>  ot  lieve 
ilu-  last,  there  will  be,  it  that  were  possible,  less  lor  the  next,  and  less  si  ill 
tcr  fie  first. 

t  T'.ils,  according  to  Strabo,  was  the  opinion  of  the  Brahinnns:  w»^i- 
${ii  jitv  yap  f/i  T;V  /icn  tj/Ouik  tfi»r,w{  u*  a«/i»)t<  <ru  ya-(..v  mm'  ran  ic  tiiivarr.ii, 
yt.'tan  £i{  TJV  ovrwj  ftiov,  icai  rjv  cufatpiva  roi{  ^iXiao/ifjaaoi.  L.1I).  X  V.  p. 

lUIJ'.t.  Ed.  Amst.  1707.  To  which  opinion  perhaps  Antuiiinus  ir.ay 
allude  in  these  words,  w$  v\>v  xcftipsstif,  varc  tfifipoov  ex  -nt  yiorpof  TIH 
yDKHAuj  <rv  i£e\&rj)  tfrojf  evjcvcedai  rr\v  (Jpay  tv  r>  7*6  t^uvccioy  ff*  TV  f Xoru4 
t*r»  u  ire<rtiru(.  Lib.  IX.  C.  3. 


52  OF   A    FUTURE    LIFE. 

of  human  creatures.  However,  there  is  ihe  shadow  of  an 
analogy,  which  may  lead  vis  to  imagine  it  is  ;  the  supposed 
likeness  which  is  observed  between  the  decay  of  vegetables 
anil  of  H/ing  creatures.  And  this  likeness  is  indeed  suffi- 
cient to  afl-ird  the  poets  very  apt  allusions  to  ihe  flowers  of 
th<i  tie.U,  in  their  pictures  of  the  frailty  of  our  present  life. 
But,  in  reason,  the  analogy  is  so  far  from  holding,  that  there 
ajvpears  no  ground  even  for  the  comparison,  as  to  the  present 
fjuestion  ;  because  one  of  the  two  subjects  compared  lu 
wholly  void  of  that,  which  is  the  principle  and  chitf  thing  in 
the  other,  the  power  of  perception  and  aciion  ;  and  which  is 
the  only  thing  we  are  inquiring  about  the  coniinimnce  of 
So  thul  the  deslruction  of  a  vegetable  is  an  event  not  simi- 
lar, or  analogous,  to  the  destruction  of  a  living  agent. 

But  if,  as  was  above  intimated,  leaving  off  the  delusivtj 
custom  of  subsiitutirig  imagination  in  the  room  of  experi- 
ence, we  would  confine  ourselves  to  what  v/e  do  know  and 
understand  ;  if  we  would  argue  only  from  that,  and  from 
that  form  our  expectations,  it  would  appear,  at  first  sight, 
that  as  no  probability  of  living  beings  ever  ceasing  to  be  PO. 
can  be  concluded  from  the  reason  of  the  thing  ;  s-o  none 
can  be  collected  from  the  analogy  of  nature  ;  because  we 
cannot  trace  any  living  beings  beyond  death.  But  as  we 
are  conscious  that  we  are  endued  with  capacities  of  percep- 
tion and  of  aciion,  and  are  living  persons,  what  we  are  to 
go  upon  is,  that  we  shall  continue  so  till  we  foresee  some 
accident,  or  event,  which  will  endanger  those  capacities,  or 
be  likely  to  destroy  us}  which  death  does  in  no  wise  appear 
to  be. 

And  thus,  when  we  go  out  of  this  world,  we  may  p?i?s 
mio  new  scences,  and  a  new  state  of  life  and  aciion,  just  as 
oaturaVyas  we  came  h  to  the  present.  And  this  new  st.ae 
tnaj'  naturally  be  a  social  one.  And  the  advantages  )f  i1,  ad- 
vantages of  every  kind,  may  naturally  be  bestowed,  accoi-hiig 
to  some  fixed  general  laws  of  wisdom,  upon  every  one  it,  pro- 
portion to  the  degrees  of  his  virtue.  And  though  the  lulvr-  ntu- 
g«%sof  that  future  naturalstate  should  not  be  bestowed,  a.?  'hese 
ol  the  present  in  some  measure  are,  by  the  will  of  the  sjoc  iel  v, 
but  :?r*ireiy  by  his  more  immediate  action,  upon  whom  the 
whole  frame  of  nature  depends,  yet  this  distribution  may  be 
just  as  natural,  as  their  b^ing  distributed  here  by  the  ilisirn- 
menially  of  men.  And,  indeed,  though  one  were  to  allow 
any  confused  undetermined  sense,  which  people  please  to  nut 
upon  the  word  natural,  it  would  be  a.  shortness  of  though/ 


CHAP.    I.]  OF    A  FUTURE    LIFE.  53 

scarce  credible  to  imagine,  that  no  system  or  course  of  tilings 
can  be  so,  but  only  what  \ve  see  at  present  ;*  especially 
whilst  '.he  probability  of  a  future  life,  or  the  natural  immoi- 
tc.lity  of  the  soul,  is  admitted  upon  me  evidence  of  reason  j 
because  this  is  really  both  admitting  and  denying  at  once,  a 
state  of  being  different  from  the  present  to  be  natural.  But 
the  only  di  mnct  meaning  of  that  word  is,  stated,  jixed,  or  set- 
lied;  since  what  is  natural  as  much  requires,  and  presuppo- 
ses an  intelligent  agent  to  render  it  so,  f.  e.  to  effect  it  con- 
tinually, or  at  stated  times,  as  what  is  supernatural  or  mi- 
racutous  does  to  effect  it  for  once.  And  from  hence  it  irwsi 
follow,  ihut  persons'  notion  of  what  is  natural  will  be  enlar- 
ged, in  proportion  to  their  greater  knowledge  of  the  works  of 
Uod  and  the  dispensations  of  his  Providence.  Nor  is  there 
any  absurdity  in  supposing,  that  there  may  be  beings  in  the 
universe,  whose  capacities,  and  knowledge,  and  views,  may 
be  so  extensive,  as  that  the  whole  Christian  dispensation  may 
to  them  appear  natural,  i.  e.  analogous  or  conformable  to 
God's  dealings  with  other  parts  of  his  creation,  as. natural  as 
the  visible  known  course  of  things  appears  to  us.  For  there 
seems  scarce  any  other  possible  sense  to  be  put  upon  the 
word,  but  that  only  in  which  it  is  here  used  j  similar,  stated, 
or  uniform. 

This  credibility  of  a  future  life,  which  has  been  here  in- 
sisted upon,  how  little  soever  it  may  satisfy  our  curiosity, 
seems  to  answer  all  the  purposes  of  religion,  in  like  inunner 
as  a  demonstrative  proof  would.  Indeed,  a  proof,  even  a  de- 
monstrative one,  of  a  future  life,  wou'.d  not  be  a  proof  of  reli- 
gion. For,  that  we  are  to  live  hereafter,  is  just  as  reconcilia- 
ble  wilh  the  scheme  of  atheism,  and  as  well*  to  be  accounted 
for  by  it,  as  that  we  are  now  alive  is  ;  and  therefore  nothing 
car.  be  more  absurd  than  to  argue  from  that  scheme,  '.hat 
there  can  be  no  future  state.  Rut  as  religion  implies  a  fu- 
ture state,  any  presumption  against  such  a  state  is  a  pre- 
sumption against  religion.  And  the  foregoing  observations 
remove  all  presumptions  of  that  sort,  and  prove,  to  a  very 
Considerable  degree  of  probability,  one  fundamental  doctrine 
!>f  r*jli«rion ;  which  if  believed,  would  greatly  open  ai.J  dis- 
pose tlio  mind  seriously  to  attend  to  the  general  evidence  of 
the  whole  • 


*  Sc$  IV-rt  ii.  ch.  2.  and  Fart  ii.  ch.  3. 


54  OF  THE  GOVERNMENT  OP  GOB      [PART  1 


CHAPTER  11. 

Oj  the  Government  of  God  by  Rewards  and  Punishments; 
and  particularly  of  the  latter. 

.  THAT  which  makes  the  question  concerning  a  future  life 
to  be  of  so  great  importance  to  us,  is  our  capacity  of  happi- 
ness and  misery.  And  that  which  makes  the  consideration 
of  it  10  be  of  so  great  importance  to  us,  is  the  supposition  of 
our  happiness  and  misery  hereafter,  depending  upon  our  ac- 
tions nere.  Without  this,  indeed,  curiosity  could  not  but 
sorneumes  bring  a  subject,  in  which  we  may  be  so  highly 
interested,  to  our  thoughts  ;  especially  upon  the  mortality 
of  o'hers,  or  the  near  prospect  of  our  own.  But  reasonable 
men  would  not  take  any  farther  thought  about  hereafter, 
than  what  should  happen  thus  occasionally  to  rise  in  their 
vniiv.ls,  if  it  were  certain  that  our  future  interest  no  way  de- 
pend upon  our  present  behaviour  ;  whereas,  on  the  contrary, 
if  there  be  ground,  either  from  analogy  or  any  thing  else,  to 
think  it  does,  then  there  is  reason  also  for  the  most  active 
thought  and  solicitude  to  secure  that  interest ;  to  behave  so 
as  I  hat  we  may  escape  that  misery,  and  obtain  that  happi- 
ness in  another  life,  which  we  not  only  suppose  ourselves 
capable  of.  but  which  we  apprehend  also  is  put  in  our  own 
power.  And  whether  there  be  ground  for  this  last  appre- 
hension, certainly  would  deserve  to  be  most  seriously  consi- 
dered, were  there  no  other  proof  of  a  future  life,  and  interest 
than  th-xt  presumptive  one  which  the  foregoing  observation* 
amount  to. 

No\v.  in  the  present  state,  all  which  we  enjoy,  and  a  great 
pait  of  what  we  suffer,  is  put  in  our  own  power.  For  plea- 
sure ami  pain  are  the  consequences  of  our  actions  :  and  we 
aie  endued  by  the  Author  of  our  na:ure  with  capacities  of 
loreseeing  these  consequences.  We  find,  by  experience,  he 
does  not  so  much  as  preserve  our  lives  exclusively  of  our  own 
care  and  attention  to  provide  ourselves  with,  and  to  make 


CHAP.    II.  J       BT    REWARDS    AND    PUNISHMENTS.  55 

uso  of,  that  sustenance,  by  which  he  has  appointed  our  lives 
shall  be  preserved,  and  without  which  he  has  appointed  they 
shall  not  be  preserved  at  all.  And  in  general  VVH  foresee,  that 
the  external  things,  which  are  the  objects  of  our  various  pas- 
sions, can  neither  be  obtained  nor  enjoyed,  without  evening 
ourselves  in  such  and  such  manners  ;  but  by  thus  exemr.u 
ourselves,  we  obtain  and  enjoy,  these  objects,  in  which  cur 
natural  good  consists,  or  by  this  means  God  gives  us  the  pos 
session  and  enjoyment  of  them.  I  know  not  that  we  huv? 
uny  one  kind  or  degree  of  enjoyment,  but  by  the  means  of 
our  own  actions.  And  by  prudence  and  care,  we  may,  foi 
the  most  part,  pass  our  days  in  tolerable  ease  and  quiet  :  or, 
on  the  contrary,  we  may,  by  rashness,  ungoverned  passion, 
wilfulness,  or  even  by  negligence,  make  ourselves  as  misera- 
ble as  ever  we  please.  And  many  do  please  to  make  i hern- 
delves  extremely  miserable,  i.  e.  to  do  what  they  know  be- 
forehand will  render  them  so.  They  follow  those  ways,  the 
fruit  of  which  they  know,  by  instruction,  example,  experi- 
ence, will  be  disgrace,  and,  poverty,  and  sickness,  and 
untimely  death.  This  every  one  observes  to  be  the  general 
course  of  things  ;  though  it  is  to  be  allowed,  we  cannot  find 
by  experience,  that  all  our  sufferings  are  owing  to  our  own 
follies. 

Why  the  Author  of  Nature  does  not  give  his  creatures 
promiscuously  such  and  such  perceptions,  without  regard  to 
their  behaviour  ;  why  he  does  not  make  them  happy  with- 
out the  instrumentality  of  their  own  actions,  and  prevent 
their  bringing  any  sufferings  upon  themselves,  is  another 
matter.  Perhaps  there  may  be  some  impossibilities  in  the 
nature  of  things,  which  we  are  unacquainted  with  ;*  Or  les? 
happiness,  it  may  be,  would,  upon  the  whole,  be  produced 
by  such  a  method  of  conduct,  than  is  by  the  present :  Or, 
perhaps,  divine  goodness,  with  which,  if  I  mistake  not,  we 
make  very  free  in  our  speculations,  may  not  be  a  bare  single 
disposition  to  produce  happiness;  but  a  disposition  to  nuiKe 
the  good,  the  faithful,  the  honest  man,  happy.  Perhaps  an 
infinitely  perfect  Mind  may  be  pleased  with  seeing  (us  cre;i 
tares  behave  suitably  to  the  nature  which  he  has  given  i  hem  j 
to  the  relations  which  he  has  placed  them  in  to  each  other  ; 
and  to  that  which  they  stand  in  to  himself;  that  relnron  to 
nimsolf,  which,  during  their  existence,  is  even  necessary,  und 
Wliich  is  the  most  important  one  of  all.  Perhaps,  I  t:<.y,  ac 

•Parti,  chop,  7          * 


56  OF  THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  COD     [PART  I 

infinitely  perfect  Mind  may  be  pleased  with  this  rroral  piety 
of  nioral  agent?,  ir,  and  for  itself,  as  \vell  as  upon  ar  count  of 
its  being  t-^cn  ially  conducive  10  ihe  happiness  of  hi?  crea- 
tion ( >r  ihe  whole  end.  for  which  God  n  ade,  and  thus  jro- 
verns  the  world,  may  be  utterly  beyond  the  read)  of  OUT  fa- 
cult  ins:  There  may  be  somewhat  in  it  as  impost-ible  for  us 
to  have  any  conception  of.  as  for  a  blind  man  to  have  a  con- 
ception of  colors.  But  however  this  be,  it  is  certain  matter 
;f  universal  experience,  that  the  general  method  of  divine  ad- 
ministration is,  forewarning  us,  or  giving  us  capacities  to  fore- 
see, with  more  or  less  clearness,  that  if  we  act  so  and  so.  we 
shall  have  such  enjoyments,  if  so  and  so,  such  sufferings;  and 
giving  us  those  enjoj'ments,  and  making  us  feel  those  suffer 
ings,  in  consequence  of  our  actions. 

'But  all  this  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  general  course  of  na- 
ture.1 True.  This  is  the  very  thing  which  1  am  observ- 
ing. It  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  general  course  of  nature ; 
t.  e.  not  surely  to  the  words,  or  ideas,  Course  of  nature,  but 
to  him  who  appointed  it,  and  put  things  into  it;  or  to  8 
course  of  operation,  from  its  uniformity  or  consistenc}',  call 
ed  natural,  and  which  necessarily  implies  an  operating 
agent.  For  when  men  find  themselves  necessitated  to  con- 
fess an  Author  of  Nature,  or  that  God  is  the  natural  gove- 
nor  of  the  world,  they  must  not  deny  this  acrain,  because 
his  irovernment  is  uniform ;  they  must  not  deny  that  he 
does  all  things  at  all,  because  he  does  them  constantly  ;  be- 
cause the  effects  of  his  ucung  are  permanent,  whether  his 
acting  be  so  or  not ;  though  there  is  no  reason  to  think  it  is 
not.  In  short,  every  man,  in  every  thing  he  does,  naturally 
acts  upon  the  forethought  and  apprehension  of  avoiding 
evil,  or  obtaining  good  :  and  if  the  natural  course  of  things 
be  the  appointment  of  God,  and  our  natural  faculties  of 
knowledge  and  experience  are  given  \is  by  him,  then  the 
good  and  bad  consequences  which  follow  our  actions  are  his 
appointment,  and  our  foresight  of  those  consecp-iences  is  a 
•A'arning  given  us  by  him,  how  we  are  to  act. 

'Js  the  pleasure,  then,  naturally  accompanying  every  parti 
cular  gratification  of  passion,  intended  to  put  us  upon  gra- 
tifying ourselves  in  every  such  particular  instance,  and  as  a 
reward  to  us  for  so  doing  V  No,  certainly.  Nor  is  it  to  be 
said,  that  our  eyes  were  naturally  intended  to  give  us  the 
sight  of  each  particular  object  to  which  they  do  or  can  ex 


CHAP.  II.]         BY    REWARDS    AXD    PUNISHMENTS  57 

tend;  objects  which  are  destructive  of  them,  or  which,  for  any- 
other  reason,  ii  may  become  us  to  turn  our  eyes  from.  YRI 
there  is  no  doubt,  but  that  our  eyes  were  intended  fur  us  to 
see  \viih.  So  neither  is  there  any  doubt,  but  that  the  foreseen 
pleasures  and  pains,  belonging  to  the  passions,  were  intcn 
ded,  in  general,  to  induce  mankind  to  act  in  such  and  such 
mann-rs. 

Now.  from  this  general  observation,  obvious  to  even'  nm 
that  God  has  given  us  to  understand  ho  has  appointed  sati-j- 
fiction  and  delight,  to  be  the  consequence  of  our  aciing  in 
one  manner,  and  pain  and  uneasiness  of  our  acting  in  an- 
other, and  of  our  not  acting  at  all ;  and  that  we  f'nd  the 
consequences,  which  we  were  beforehand  informed  of,  uni- 
formly to  follow  ;  we  may  learn,  that  we  are  at  present  ac- 
tually under  his  government,  in  the  strictest  and  most  pro- 
per sense  ;  in  such  a  sense,  as  that  he  rewards  and  punish- 
es us  for  our  actions.  An  Author  of  Nature  being  suppo- 
sed, it  is  not  so  much  a  deduction  of  reason  as  a  matter  of 
experience,  that  we  are  thus  under  his  government  :  under 
his  government,  in  the  same  sense  as  we  are  under  ihe  go- 
vernment of  civil  magistrates.  Because  the  annexing  plea- 
sure to  some  actions,  and  pain  to  others,  in  our  power  to  do 
or  forbear,  and  giving  notice  of  this  appointment  beforehand 
to  those  whom  it  concerns,  is  the  proper  formal  noiion  of  go- 
vernment. Whether  the  pleasure  or  pain  which  thus  fol- 
lows upon  our  behaviour,  be  owing  to  the  Author  of  Na- 
ture's acting  upon  us  ever}'  moment  which  we  feel  it,  or  to 
his  having  at  once  contrived  and  executed  his  own  part  in 
the  plan  of  the  world,  makes  no  alteration  as  to  the  matter  be- 
fore us.  For,  if  civil  magistrates  could  make  the  sanction 
of  their  laws  take  place,  without  interposing  at  all,  aftei 
they  had  passed  them  ;  without  a  trial,  and  the  formalities 
of  an  execution:  if  they  were  able  to  make  their  laws  exc 
c^te  them  themselves  or  evei\y  offender  to  execute  them 
upon  himself,  we  should  be  just  in  the  same  sense  un- 
der their  government  then,  as  we  are  now  ;  but  in  a 
much  higher  degree,  and  more  perfect  manner.  Vain 
12  the  ridicule  with  which  one  foresees  some  persons  will 
divert  themselves,  upon  rinding  lesser  pains  considered  as 
Instances  of  divine  punishment.  There  is  no  possibility  of 
answering  or  evading  the  general  thing  here  intended,  wiin- 
out  denying  all  final  causes.  For,  final  causes  being  admit- 
ted, the  pleasures  and  pains  now  mentioned  must  be  admitted 
too,  as  uidtiuieea  of  them.  And  if  they  ore ;  if  God  annex. 


58          OF  THE  GOVENRNMENT  OP  GOD     [PART  I. 

cs  delighi  to  some  actions  and  uneasiness  to  other?,  with  an 
apparent  design  to  induce  us  to  act  so  and  so,  ihen  he  not 
only  dispenses  happine.ss  and  misery,  but  also  rewards  and 
pmii.shes  actions.  If,  for  example,  the  pain  which  we  feel 
upon  doing  what  tends  to  the  destruction  of  our  boda-sj  sup- 
pose  upon  too  near  approaches  to  foe,  or  upon  wounding 
ourselves,  be  appointed  by  the  Author  of  Nature  to  pr«ven! 
our  doing  what  thus  tends  to  our  destruction  ;  this  is  alto- 
gether as  much  an  instance  of  his  punishing  our  aclicns^ 
and  consequently  of  our  being  under  his  government,  as  de- 
claring, by  a  voice  from  heaven,  that  if  we  acted  so,  he 
would  inflict  such  pain  upon  us,  and  inflicting  it  whether  it 
be  greater  or  less. 

Thus  we  find,  iha,t  the.  true  notion  or  conception  of  the 
Author  of  Nature,  is  that  of  a  master  or  governor,  prior  to 
the  consideration  of  hi?  moral  attributes.  The  fact  of  our 
case,  which  we  find  by  experience,  is,  that  he  actually  ex- 
ercises dominion  or  government  over  us  at  present,  by  re- 
warding and  punishing  us  for  our  actions,  in  as  strict  and 
proper  a  sense  of  these  words,  and  even  in  the  same  sense 
as  children,  servants,  subjects,  are  rewarded  and  punished  by 
those  who  govern  them. 

Ami  thus  the  whole  analogy  of  nature,  the  whole  present 
course  of  things,  most  fully  shows,  that  there  is  nothing  in- 
credible in  the  general  doctrine  of  religion,  that  God  will  re- 
ward and  punish  men  for  their  actions  hereafter  ;  nothing 
incredible,  I  mean,  arising  out  of  the  notion  of  rewarding 
and  punishing,  for  the  whole  course  of  nature  is  a  present 
instance  of  his  exercising  that  government  over  us,  -which 
implies  in  it  rev/aiding  and  punishing, 


BUT,  as  divine  punishment  is  what  men  chiefly  object 
against,  and  are  most  unwill'ng  to  allow,  it  may  be  proper  to 
mention  some  circumstances  in  the  natural  course  of  pun- 
ishments at  present,  which  are  analogous  to  what  relicrior. 
touches  us  concerning  a  future  state  of  punishment  j  indued 
?o  analogous,  that  as  they  add  a  further  credibility  to  it,  so 
ihey  cannot  but  raise  a  most  serious  apprehension  of  it  iu 
UiO«o  who  will  attend  to  them. 


CHAP.  II.]        BY   REWARDS    AND    PUNISHMENTS.  59 

Jt  has  been  now  observed,  that  such  and  such  miseries  nn- 
kiraliy  follow  such  and  such  actions  of  imprudence  and  wil- 
fulness,  as  well  as  actions  more  commonly  and  more  distinct- 
ly considered  as  vicious  ;  and  that  these  consequences,  wher. 
they  may  be  foreseen,  are  properly  natural  punishments  an- 
nexed to  such  actions.  For  the  general  thing  here  insisted 
upon  is,  not  that  we  see  a  great  deal  of  misery  in  the  world, 
out  a  great  deal  which  men  bring  upon  themselves  by  their 
own  behaviour,  which  they  might  have  foreseen  and  avoid 
ed.  Now,  the  circumstances  of  these  natural  punishments, 
particularly  deserving  ourattention,  are  such  as  these :  That 
oftentimes  they  follow,  or  are  inflicted  in  consequence  of  ac- 
tions which  procure  many  present  advantages,  and  are  ac- 
companied with  much  present  pleasure  ;  for  instance,  sick- 
ness and  untimely  death  is  the  consequence  of  intemperance, 
though  accompanied  with  the  highest  mirth  and  jollity; 
That  these  punishments  are  often  much  greater  than  the  ad- 
vantages or  pleasures  obtained  by  the  actions,  of  which  they 
are  the  punishments  or  consequences  :  That  though  we  may 
imagine  a  constitution  of  nature,  in  which  these  natural  pun- 
ishments, which  are  in  fact  to  follow,  would  follow  immedi- 
ately upon  such  actions  being  done,  or  very  soon  after  ;  we 
find,  on  the  contrary,  in  our  world,  that  they  are  often  delay- 
ed a  great  while,  sometimes  even  till  long  after  the  actions 
occasioning  them  are  forgot ;  so  that  the  constitution  of  na- 
ture is  such,  that  delay  of  punishment  is  no  sort  nor  degree 
of  presumption  of  final  impunity  :  That,  after  such  delay, 
these  natural  punishments  or  miseries  often  come,  not  by  de- 
grees but  suddenly,  with  violence,  and  at  once ;  however, 
the  chief  misery  often  does :  That,  as  certainty  of  such  dis- 
tant misery  following  such  actions  is  never  afforded  persons, 
so,  perhaps,  during  the  actions,  they  have  seldom  a  distinct 
full  expectation  of  its  following  :*  and  many  times  the  case 
is  only  thus,  that  they  see  in  general,  or  may  see,  the  credi- 
bility that  intemperance,  suppose,  will  bring  after  its  diseases; 
civil  crimes,  civil  punishments  ;  when  yet  the  real  probabili- 
ty often  is,  that  they  shall  escape  ;  but  tilings  notwithstand- 
ing take  their  destined  course,  and  the  misery  inevitable 
follows  at  its  appointed  time,  in  very  many  of  these  cases. 
Thus,  also,  though  youth  may  be  alleged  as  an  excuse  for 
rashness  and  folly,  as  being  naturally  thoughtless,  and  not 
cieaiiy  foreseeing  all  the  consequences  of  being  untraclable 

•  See  Fart  ii.  chap.  6. 


80  OF    THE    GOVERS3IENT    OF    GOD  [PART  I. 

and  profligate  ;  this  does  not  hinder  but  that  Ihese  conse- 
quences  follow,  and  are  grievously  felt  throughout  th» 
whole  course  of  future  life.  Habits  contracted,  even  in 
that  age,  are  often  utter  ruin ;  and  men's  success  in  the 
world,  not  only  in  the  common  sense  of  worldly  success,  but 
their  real  happiness  and  misery  depends,  in  a  great  degree 
and  in  various  ways,  upon  the  manner  in  which  they  pass 
their  youth  ;  which  consequences  they,  for  the  most  part., 
neglect  to  consider,  and  perhaps  seldom  can  properly  te  said 
to  believe  beforehand.  It  requires  also  to  be  mentioned,  that, 
in  numberless  cases,  the  natural  course  of  things  affords  us 
opportunities  for  procuring  advantages  to  ourselves  at  certain 
times,  which  we  cannot  procure  when  we  will ;  nor  even 
recall  the  opportunities,  if  we  have  neglected  them.  Indeed, 
the  general  course  of  nature  is  an  example  of  this.  If,  dur- 
ing the  opportunity  of  youth,  persons  are  indocile  and  self- 
willed,  they  inevitably  suffer  in  their  future  life,  for  want  of 
those  acquirements  which  they  neglected  the  natural  sea- 
son of  attaining.  If  the  husbandman  lets  his  seed-time 
pass  without  sowing,  the  whole  year  is  lost  to  him  beyond 
recovery.  In  like  manner,  though  after  men  have  been 
guilty  of  folly  and  extravagance,  up  to  a  certain  degree,  it  is 
often  in  their  power,  for  instance,  to  retrieve  their  affairs,  to 
recover  their  health  and  character,  at  least  in  good  measure, 
yet  real  reformation  is,  in  many  cases,  of  no  avail  at.  all  to- 
wardo  preventing  the  miseries,  poverty,  sickness,  infamy,  na- 
turally annexed  :o  folly  and  extravagance,  exceeding  that  de- 
gree. There  is  a  certain  bound  to  imprudence  and  misbe- 
haviour, which  being  transgressed,  there  remains  no  place 
for  repentance  in  the  natural  course  of  things.  It  is  fur- 
ther, very  much  to  be  remarked,  that  neglects  from  inconsi- 
derateness,  want  of  attention,*  not  looking  about  us  to  see 
what  we  have  to  do,  are  often  attended  with  consequences 
altogether  as  dreadful  as  any  active  misbehaviour,  from  the 
most  extravagant  passion.  And,  lastly,  civil  government 
being  natural,  the  punishments  of  it  are  so  too  ;  and  some 
of  these  punishments  are  capital,  as  the  effects  of  a  disso- 
lute course  of  pleasure  are  often  mortal.  So  that  many 
natural  punishments  are  final  j  to  him  who  incurs  them,  if 

*  Part  ii.  chap.  6. 

t  The  general  consideration  of  a  future  state  of  punishment  most  evi- 
dently belongs  to  the  subject  of  natural  religion.  But  if  any  of  these  re 
Hections  should  be  thought  to  relate  more  particularly  to  this  doctrine,  at 
taught  in  ricrijttura,  the  reader  U  desired  to  observe,  that  Gentile  writer^ 


CHAP.    II.]        BY   REWARDS    AND    PUNISHMENTS.  61 

considered  only  in  his  tempoial  capacity  ;  and  seem  inflic- 
ted by  natural  appointment,  either  to  remove  the  offender 
out  of  the  way  of  being  further  mischievous,  or  as  an  ex 
ample,  though  frequently  a  disregarded  one,  to  those  who 
are  left  behind. 

These  things  are  not  what  we  call  accidental,  or  to  se 
met  with  only  now  and  then  ;  but  they  are  things  of  every 
day's  experience;  they  proceed  from  general  laws,  very 
general  ones,  by  which  God  governs  the  world,  in  the  na- 
tural course  of  his  providence.  And  they  are  so  analogous 
to  what  religion  teaches  us  concerning  the  future  punish- 
ment of  the  wicked,  so  much  of  a  piece  with  it,  that  both 
would  naturally  be  expressed  in  the  very  same  words  and 
manner  of  description.  In  the  book  of  Proverbs,*  for  in- 
stance, Wisdom  is  introduced  as  frequenting  the  most  pub- 
lic places  of  resort,  and  as  rejected  when  she  offers  herself 
as  the  natural  appointed  guide  of  human  life.  '  How  long,' 
speaking  to  those  who  are  passing  through  it,  '  how  long, 
ye  simpk  ones,  will  ye  love  folly,  and  the  scorners  delight  in 
their  scorning,  and  fools  hate  knowledge  ?  Turn  ye  at  my 
reproof.  Behold,  I  will  pour  out  my  spirit  upon  you,  I  will 
make  known  my  words  unto  you.'  But  upon  being  neg- 
lected, '  Because  I  have  called,  and  ye  refused,  1  have 
stretched  out  my  hand,  and  no  man  regarded  ;  but  ye  have 
set  at  naught  all  my  counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  re- 
proof: I  also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock 
when  your  fear  cometh  ;  when  your  fear  cometh  as  deso- 
lation, and  your  destruction  cometh  as  a  whirlwind  ;  when 

both  moralists  and  poets,  speak  of  the  future  punishment  of  the  wicked, 
both  as  to  the  duration  and  degree  of  it,  in  a  like  manner  of  expression 
and*  of  description  as  the  Scripture  does.  So  that  all  which  can  positively 
be  asserted  to  be  matter  of  mere  revelation,  with  regard  to  this  doctrine, 
seems  to  be,  that  the  great  distinction  between  the  righteous  and  the 
wicked  shall  be  made  at  the  end  of  this  world ;  that  each  shall  then  receive 
according  to  his  deserts.  Reason  did,  as  it  well  might,  conclude,  that 
it  should,  finally  and  upon  the  whole,  be  well  with  the  righteous  and  ill 
with  the  wi  ked ;  but  it  could  not  be  determined,  upon  any  principles  of 
reason,  whether  human  creatures  might  not  have  befin  appointed  to  pass 
through  other  states  of  life  and  being,  l«fore  that  distributive  juwtice 
should  finally  and  effectually  take  place.  Revelation  teaches  us,  that  the 
next  state  of  things,  after  the  present,  is  appointed  for  the  execution  of 
this  justice;  that  it  shall  be  no  longer  delayed ;  but  the  mystery  of  Go>ft 
the  great  mystery  of  his  sufii-ring  vice  and  confusion  to  prevail,  shall  then 
ke  finished  ;  and  he  will  take  to  him  his  great  power,  and  will  reign,  by 
jenJeririg  to  every  one  according  to  his  works. 

•Chap.  1. 


62  OF   *HE    GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD  [PAUT  I 

distress  and  anguish  conpeth  upon  yon.  Then  shall  they 
call  upon  ma.,  but  I  will  not  answer ;  they  shall  seek  me 
early,  but  they  shall  not  find  me.'  This  passage,  every  on« 
sees,  is  poetical,  and  some  parts  of  it  are,  highly  figuiat've  j 
but  their  meaning  is  obvious.  And  the  thing  intended  is  ex 
pressed  mere  literally  in  the  following  words :  'For  that 
they  hated  knowledge,  and  did  not  choose  the  fear  of  the 
Lord  ;  therefore  shall  they  eat  the  fruit  of  their  own  way, 
and  be  filled  with  their  own  devices.  For  the  security  of 
the  simple  shall  slay  them,  and  the  prosperity  of  fools  shal] 
destroy  them.'  And  the  whole  passage  is  so  equalty  appli- 
cable to  what  we  experience  in  the  present  world,  concern- 
ing the  consequences  of  men's  actions  and  to  what  reli- 
gion teaches  us  is  to  be  expected  in  another,  that  it 
may  be  questioned  which  of  the  two  was  principally  in- 
tended. 

Indeed,  when  one  has  been  recollecting  the  proper  proofs 
of  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments,  nothing,  me- 
thinks.  can  give  one  so  sensible  an  apprehension  of  the  lat- 
ter, or  representation  of  it  to  the  mind,  as  observing,  that 
after  the  many  disregarded  checks,  admonitions,  and  warn- 
ings, which  people  meet  with  in  the  ways  of  vice,  and  folly, 
and  extravagance  ;  warnings  from  their  very  nature  ;  from 
the  examples  of  others;  from  the  lesser  inconveniences  which 
they  bring  upon  themselves ;  from  the  instructions  of  wisa 
and  virtuous  men :  after  these  have  been  long  despised, 
scorned,  ridiculed  ;  after  the  chief  bad  consequences,  tem- 
poral consequences,  of  their  follies,  have  been  delayed  for  a 
great  while  ;  at  length  they  break  in  irresistibly,  like  an 
aimed  force  ;  repentance  is  too  late  to  relieve,  and  can  serve 
only  to  aggravate  their  distress :  the  case  ic  become  des- 
perate ;  and  poverty  and  sickness,  remorse  and  anguish,  in 
famy  and  death,  the  effects  of  their  own  doings,  overwhelm 
them,  beyond  possibility  of  remedy  or  escape.  This  is  an 
account  of  what  is  in  fact  the  general  constitution  of  na- 
ture 

It  is  not  in  any  sen  meant,  that  according  to  what  ap- 
pears at  present  of  the  natural  course  of  things,  men  are 
always  uniformly  punished  in  proportion  to  their  misbe- 
haviour ;  but  that  there  are  very  many  instances  of  misbe- 
haviour punished  in  the  several  ways  now  mentioned,  and 
very  dreadful  instances  too,  sufficient  to  show  what  the  laws 
of  the  universe  may  admit ;  and,  if  thoroughly  considered, 
sufficient  fully  to  answer  all  objections  against  the  credibili 


CHAP.    II,]        BV   REWARDS    AND    PUNISHMENTS.  63 

ty  of  a  future  state  of  punishments,  -from  any  imaginations, 
that  the  frailty  of  our  nature  and  external  temptation.?  al- 
most annihilate  the  guilt  of  human  vices  ;  as  well  as  objec- 
tions of  another  sort ;  from  necessity  ;  from  suppositions 
that  the  will  of  an  infinite  Being  cannot  be  contradicted  ;  or 
that  he  must  be  incapable  of  offence  and  provocation.* 

Reflections  of  this  kind  are  noi  without  their  terrors  to 
eerious  persons,  the  most  free  from  enthusiasm,  and  of  the 
greatest  strength  of  mind  ;  but  it  is  fit  things  oe  stated  and 
considered  as  they  really  are.  And  there  is,  in  the  present 
age,  a  certain  fearlessness  with  regard  to  what  may  bo 
hereafter  under  the  government  of  God,  which  nothing  but 
an  universally  acknowledged  demonstration  on  the  side  of 
atheism  can  justify,  and  which  makes  it  quite  necessary  that 
men  be  reminded,  and,  if  possible,  made  to  feel,  that  there 
is  no  sort  of  ground  for  being  thus  presumptuous,  even 
upon  the  most  sceptical  principles.  For,  may  it  not  be  said 
of  any  person,  upon  his  being  born  into  the  world,  he  may 
behave  so  as  to  be  of  no  service  to  it,  but  by  being  made  an 
example  of  the  woful  effects  of  vice  and  folly  :  That  he 
may,  as  any  one  may,  if  he  will,  incur  an  infamous  execu- 
tion from  the  hands  of  civil  justice  ;  or  in  some  other  couiv* 
of  extravaganc*- shorten  his  days  ;  or  bring  upon  himself 
infamy  and  diseases  worse  than  death  1  So  that  it  had 
been  better  for  him,  even  with  regard  to  the  present  world, 
that  he  had  never  been  liorn.  And  is  there  any  pretence  of 
reason  for  people  to  think  themselves  secure,  and  talk  as  if 
they  had  certain  proof,  that,  let  them  act  as  licentiously  as 
they  will,  there  can  be  nothing  analogous  to  this,  with  re- 
gard to  a  future  and  more  general  interest,  under  the  provi 
Jence  and  government  of  the  same  God  t 

*  See  Cini>  4  and  & 


(54  OF    THE    MORAL  [PART  I 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  the  Moral  Government  of  God. 

As  the  manifold  appearances  of  design  and  of  final  cau 
ses,  in  the  constitution  of  the  world,  prove  it  to  be  the  work 
of  an  intelligent  Mind,  so  the  particular  final  causes  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  distributed  amongst  his  creatures,  prove 
that  they  are  under  his  government ;  what  may  be  called 
his  natural  government  of  creatures  endued  with  sense  and 
reason.  This,  however,  implies  somewhat  more  than  seems 
usually  attended  to,  when  we  speak  of  God's  natural  gov- 
ernment of  the  world.  It  implies  government  of  the  very 
same  kind  with  that  which  a  master  exercises  over  his  ser- 
v^nts,  or  a  civil  magistrate  over  his  subjects.  These  latter 
instances  of  final  causes  as  really  prove  an^intelligent  gov- 
ernor of  the  world,  in  the  sense  now  mentioned,  and  before* 
distinctly  treated  of,  as  any  other  instances  of  final  causes 
prove  an  intelligent  Maker  of  it. 

But  this  alone  does  not  appear,  at  first  sight,  to  determine 
any  thing  certainly,  concerning  the  moral  character  of  the 
Author  of  nature,  considered  in  this  relation  of  governor  ; 
does  not  ascertain  his  government  to  be  moral,  or  prove  that 
he  is  the  righteous  Judge  of  the  world.  Moral  government 
consists,  not  barety  in  rewarding  and  punishing  men  for 
ihsir  actions,  which  the  most  tyrannical  person  may  do ; 
but  in  rewarding  the  righteous  and  punishing  the  wicked  ; 
hi  rendering  to  men  according  to  their  actions,  considered  aa 
good  or  evil.  And  the  perfection  of  moral  government  con- 
sists in  doing  this,  with  regard  to  all  intelligent  creatures, 
in  an  exact  proportion  to  their  personal  merits  or  demerits. 

Some  men  seem  to  think  the  only  character  of  the 
Author  of  nature  to  be  that  of  simple  absolute  benevolence. 
This,  considered  as  a  principle  of  action,  and  infinite  in  do 
gree,  is  a  disposition  to  produce  the  greatest  possitJe  happi 

*  Chap.  3. 


CHAP.    III.J  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  15 

ness,  without  regard  to  persons'  behaviour,  otherwise  than  as 
such  regard  would  produce  higher  degrees  of  it.  And  sup- 
posing this  to  be  the  only  character  of  God,  veracity  and 
justice  in  him  would  be  nothing  but  benevolence  conducted 
by  wisdom.  Now,  surely  this  ought  not  to  be  asserted,  un- 
less it  can  be  proved  ;  for  we  should  speak  with  cautious 
reverence  upon  such  a  subject.  And  whether  it  can  be 
proved  or  no,  is  not  the  thing  here  to  be  inquired  into  ;  but 
whether,  in  the  constitution  and  conduct  of  the  world,  a 
righteous  government  be  not  discernibly  planned  out  ;  which 
necessarily  implies  a  righteous  governqr.  There  may  pos- 
sibly be  in  the  creation  of  beings,  to  whom  the  author  of 
nature  manifests  himself  under  this  most  amiable  of  all 
characters,  this  of  infinite  absolute  benevolence  ;  for  it  is  the 
most  amiable,  supposing  it  not,  as  perhaps  it  is  not,  incom- 
patible with  justice  :  but  he  manifests  himself  to  us  under 
the  character  of  a  righteous  governor.  He  may,  consist- 
ently with  this,  be  simply  and  absolutely  benevolent,  in  the 
sense  now  explained  ;  but  he  has,  for  he  has  given  us  a 
proof  in  the  constitution  and  conduct  of  the  world  that  he  is, 
a  governor  over  servants,  as  he  rewards  and  punishes  us  for 
our  actions.  And  in  the  constitution  and  conduct  of  it,  he 
may  also  have  given,  besides  the  reason  of  the  thing,  and 
the  natural  presages  of  conscience,  clear  and  distinct  inti- 
mations, that  his  government  is  righteous  or  moral  :  clear  to 
such  as  think  the  nature  of  it  deserving  their  attention  ;  and 
yet  not  to  every  careless  person  who  casts  a  transient  reflec- 
tion upon  the  subject.* 

But  it  is  particularly  to  be  observed,  that  the  divine  go- 
vernment, which  we  experience  ourselves  under  in  the  pre- 
sent state,  taken  alone,  is  allowed  not  to  be  the  perfection  of 
moral  government.  And  yet  this  by  no  means  hinders,  but 
that  there  may  be  somewhat,  be  it  more  or  less,  truly  moral 
in  it.  A  righteous  government  may  plainly  appear  to  be 
carried  on  to  some  degree  ;  enough  to  give  us  the  apprehen- 
sion that  it  shall  be  completed,  or  carried  on  to  that  degree 

*  Tha  onjections  against  religion,  from  the  evidence  of  its  not  bring 
universal,  nor  so  strong  as  might  possibly  have  been,  may  be  urged, 
latural  religion,  as  well  as  against  revealed.  And,  therefore,  the 
ation  of  them  belongs  to  the  first  part  of  this  Tnatise,  as  well  as 
d.  But  as  these  objections  .are  chiefly  urged  agai:ist  revealr>d 
I  chose  to  consider  them  in  the  second  part.  And  the  nnsv.cr  lo 
themtl  -re,  Chap.  6,  as  urged  against  Christianity,  being  almost  equally 
applica  le  to  them  as  urged  against  the  Religion  of  Nature,  to  avoid  repe- 
,  the  reader  in  referred  to  that  chapter. 


against 
consult 
Uie  SPC< 


C6  OF  THE  MORAL  fpART  t 

of  perfection  which  religion  teaches  us  it  shall ;  but  which 
cannot  appear,  till  much  more  of  the  divine  administratioa 
be  seen,  than  can  in  the  present  life.  And  the  design  of  thw 
chapter  is  to  inquire  how  fur  this  is  the  case ;  how  far,  over 
and  above  the  moml  nature*  which  God  has  given  us,  and 
our  natural  notion  of  him,  as  righteous  governor  of  those 
J  is  creatures  to  whom  he  has  given  this  nature  ;"("  I  say  how 
far,  besides  this,  the  principles  and  beginnings  of  moral 
government  over  the  world  may  be  discerned  notwithstand- 
ing and  amidst  all  the  confusion  and  disorder  of  it. 

Now  one  might  mention  here,  what  has  been  often  urged 
with  great  force,  that,  in  general,  less  uneasiness,  and  more 
satisfaction,  are  the  natural  consequences*  of  a  virtuous 
than  a  vicious  course  of  life,  in  the  present  state  as  an 
instance  of  moral  government  established  in  nature  :  an 
instance  of  it  collected  from  experience  and  present  mat- 
ter of  fact.  But  it  must  be  owned  a  thing  of  diffi- 
culty to  weigh  and  balance  pleasures  and  uneasinesses^ 
each  among  themselves,  and  also  amongst  each  other, 
so  as  to  make  an  estimate  with  an  exactness,  of  the 
overplus  of  happiness  on  the  side  of  virtue.  And  it  is  not 
impossible,  that,  amidst  the  infinite  disorders  of  the  world, 
there  may  be  exceptions  to  the  happiness  of  virtue,  even 
with  regard  to  those  persons  whose  course  of  life,  from  their 
youth  up,  has  been  blameless  ;  and  more  with  regard  to 
those,  who  have  gone  on  for  some  time  in  the  ways  of  vice, 
and  have  afterwards  reformed.  For  suppose  an  instance  of 
the  latter  case  ;  a  person  with  his  passions  inflamed,  his  na- 
tural faculty  of  self-government  impaired  by  habiis  of  in- 
dulgence, and  with  all  his  vices  about  him,  like  so  many 
harp'.ors,  craving  for  their  accustomed  gratification :  who 
can  say  how  long  it  micrht  be  before  such  a  person  would 
find  more  satisfaction  in  the  reasonableness  and  present  good 
consequences  of  virtue,  than  difficulties  and  self-denial  in 
the  restraints  of  it  ?  Experience  also  shows,  that  men  can, 
to  a  great  degree,  get  over  their  sense  of  shame,  so  as  that 
by  professing  themselves  to  be  without  principle,  and  avow 
ing  even  direct  villany,  they  can  support  themselves  against 
the  infamy  of  it.  But  as  the  ill  actions  of  any  one  will  pro- 
bably be  more  talked  of,  and  oftener  thrown  in  his  way,  upon 
his  reformation  ;  so  the  infamy  of  them  will  be  much  more 
felt,  after  the  natural  sense  of  virtue  and  of  honor  is  reco* 

*  Dissertation  2.  T  Chap.  6. 

t  See  Lord  Shaftesbury's  Inquiry  concerning  Virtue.  Part  2. 


CHAP,    m.]  GOVERNMENT    »F    GOD.-  67 

vored.  Uneasinesses  of  this  kind  ought  indeed  to  be  put  to 
the  account  of  former  vices  ;  yet  it  will  be  said  they  are  in 
part  the  consequences  of  reformation.  Still  J  am  far  from 
allowing  it  doubtful,  whether  virtue,  upon  the  whole,  be  hap- 
pier than  vice  in  the  present  world  ;  but  if  it  were,  yet  the  be- 
ginnings of  a  righteous  administration  may,  beyond  all  ques- 
tion, be  found  in  nature,  if  we  will  attentively  inquire  after 
them.  And, 

I.  In  whatever  manner  the  notion  of  God's  moral  govern- 
ment over  the  world  might  be  ti-eated,  if  it  did  not  appear 
whether  he  were,  in  a  proper  sense,  our  governor  at  all ;  yet 
when  it  is  certain  matter  of  experience,  that  he  does  mani- 
fest himself  to  us"under  the  character  of  a  governor,  in  the 
sense  explained,*  it  must  deserve  to  be  considered,  whether 
there  be  not  reason  to  apprehend,  that  he  may  be  a  righteous 
or  moral  governor.  Since  it  appears  to  be  fact,  that 
God  does  govern  mankind  by  the  method  of  rewards 
and  punishments,  according  to  some  settled  rulers  of 
distribution,  it  is  surely  a  question  to  be  asked,  What 
presumption  is  there  against  his  finally  rewarding  and 
punishing  them  according  to  this  particlar  rule,  namely,  as 
they  act  reasonably  or  unreasonably,  virtuously  or  viciously  ? 
Eince  rendering  man  happy  or  miserable  by  this  rule,  certain- 
ly falls  in,  much  more  falls  in,  with  our  natural  apprehen- 
sions and  sense  of  things,  than  doing  so  by  any  other  rule, 
whatever  ;  since  rewarding  and  punishing  actions  by  any 
other  rule,  would  appear  much  harder  to  be  accounted  for  by 
minds  formed  as  he  has  formed  ours.  Be  the  evidence  of  reli- 
gion, then,  more  or  less  clear,  the  expectation  whicn  it  raises 
in  us,  that  the  righteous  shall  upon  the  whole,  be  happy,  and 
the  wicked  miserable,  cannot,  however,  possibly  be  consi- 
dered as  absurd  or  chimerical ;  because  it  is  no  more  than  an 
expectation,  that  a  method  of  government,  already  begun, 
shall  be  carried  on,  the  method  of  rewarding  and  punishing 
actions  ;  and  shall  be  carried  on  by  a  particular  rule,  which 
unavoidably  appears  to  us,  at  first  sight,  more  natural  than 
any  other,  the  rule  which  we  call  distributive  justice.  Nor, 
II.  Ought  it  to  be  entirely  passed  over,  that  tranquillity, 
satisfaction,  and  external  advantages,  being  The  natural  con- 
sequences of  prudent  management  of  ourselves  and  our 
aflairs ;  and  rashness,  profligate  negligence,  and  wilful 
folly,  bringing  after  them  many  incorveniencies  and  suffer- 
ings ;  theso  afford  instances  of  a  right  constitution  of  nq,- 

*  Chap.  9 

e* 


68  OF    T£E    MORAL  [PAKT  1 

ture  ;  as  the  correction  of  children,  for  their  own  sakes  and 
by  ihe  way  of  example,  when  they  run  into  danger  or  hurt 
themselves,  is  a  part  of  right  education.  And  thus,  that 
God  governs  the  world  by  general  fixed  laws  ;  that  he  has 
endued  us  with  capacities  of  reflecting  upon  this  constitu- 
tion of  things,  and  forseeing  the  good  and  bad  consequences 
of  oui  behaviour,  plainly  implies  some  sort  of  moral  govern- 
ment :  since  from  such  a  constitution  of  things  it  cannot  but 
follow,  that  prudence  and  imprudence,  which  are*of  the  na- 
ture of  virtue  and  vice,*  must  be,  as  they  are,  respectively 
rewarded  and  punished. 

III.  From  the  natural  course  of  things,  vicious  actions 
are,  to  a  great  degree,  actually  punished  as  mischievous  to 
society  ;  and  besides  punishment  actually  inflicted  upon  thia 
account,  there  is  also  the  fear  and  apprehension  of  it  in  thosi 
persons  whose  crimes  have  rendered  them  obnoxious  to  iV 
in  case  of  a  discovery ;  this  state  of  fear  being  itself  often  a 
very  considerable  punishment.  The  natural  fear  and  appre- 
hension of  it  too,  which  restrains  from  such  crimes,  is  a  de- 
claration of  nature  against  them.  It  is  necessary  to  the 
very  being  of  society,  that  vices  destructive  of  it  should  be 
punished  as  being  so  ;  the  vices  of  falsehood,  injustice,  cruel- 
ty :  which  punishment,  therefore,  is  as  natural  as  society, 
and  so  is  an  instance  of  a  kind  of  moral  government, 
naturally  established,  and  actually  taking  place.  And, 
since  the  certain  natural  course  of  things  is  the  con- 
duct of  Providence  or  the  government  of  God,  though 
carried  on  by  the  instrumentality  of  men,  the  observa- 
tion here  made  amounts  to  this,  that  mankind  find  them- 
selves placed  by  him  in  such  circumstances,  as  that  they 
are  unavoidably 'accountable*  for  their  behaviour,  and  are 
often  punished,  and  sometimes  rewarded,  under  his  go- 
vernment, in  the  view  of  their  being  mischievous  or  eminent- 
ly beneficial  to  society. 

If  it  be  objected  that  good  actions,  and  such  as  are  bene- 
ficial to  society,  are  often  punished,  as  in  the  case  of  perse- 
cution, and  in  other  cases,  and  that  ill  and  mischievous  ac- 
tions are  often  rewarded  ;  it  may  be  answered  distinctly, 
first,  that  this  is  in  no  sort  necessary,  and  consequently  not 
natural  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  necessary,  and  therefore 
natural,  that  ill  or  mischievous  actions  should  be  punished  \ 
and,  in  the  next  place,  that  good  actions  are  never  punished 
considered  as  beneficial  to  society,  nor  ill  actions  rewarded 

*  See  Dissertation  2. 


CHAP.    III.]  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  69 

under  the  view  of  their  being  hurtful  to  it.  So  that  it 
stands  good,  without  any  thing  on  the  side  of  vice  to  be  set 
over  against  it,  that  the  A  uthor  of  nature  has  as  truly  di- 
rected ihat  vicious  actions,  considered  as  mischievous  to  so- 
ciety, should  be  punished,  and  put  mankind  under  a  neces- 
sity of  thus  punishing  them,  as  he  has  directed  and  neces- 
sitated us  to  preserve  our  lives  by  food. 

IV.  In  the  natural  course  of  things,  virtue,  as  such,  is 
actually  rewarded,  and  vice,  as  such,  punished  ;  which 
seems  to  afford  an  instance,  or  example,  not  only  of  govern- 
ment, but  of  moral  government  begun  and  established  j 
moral  in  the  strictest  sense,  though  not  in  that  perfection  of 
degree  which  religion  teaches  us  to  expect.  In  order  to  see 
this  more  clearly,  we  must  distinguish  between  actions  them- 
selves, and  that  quality  ascribed  to  them,  which  we  cull  vir- 
tuous or  vicious.  The  gratification  itself  of  every  natural 
passion  must  be  attended  with  delight ;  and  acquisitions  of 
fortune,  however  made,  are  acquisitions  of  the  means  or 
materials  of  enjoyment.  An  action,  then,  by  which  any 
natural  passion  is  gratified,  or  fortune  acquired,  procures  de- 
light or  advantage,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of  the 
morality  of  such  action.  Consequently,  the  pleasure  or  ad- 
vantage in  this  case  is  gained  by  the  action  itself,  not  by  the 
morality,  the  virtuousness  or  viciousness  of  it,  though  it  be, 
perhaps,  virtuous  or  vicious.  Thus,  to  say  such  an  action, 
or  course  of  behaviour,  procured  such  pleasure  or  advantage, 
or  brought  on  such  inconvenience  and  pain,  is  quite  a  differ- 
ent thing  from  saying,  that  such  good  or  bad  effect  was  ow 
ing  to  the  virtue  or  vice  of  such  an  action  or  behaviour. 
In  one  case  an  action,  abstracted  from  all  moral  considera- 
tion, produced  its  effect ;  in  the  other  case,  for  it  will  appear 
that  there  are  such  cases,  the  morality  of  the  action,  the 
action  under  a  moral  consideration,  i.  e.  the  virtuousness  or 
viciousness  of  it,  produced  the  effect.  Now  I  say,  virtue, 
as  such,  naturally  procures  considerable  advantages  to  the 
virtuous,  and  vice,  as  such,  naturally  occasions  great  incon- 
venience, and  even  misery  to  the  vicious,  in  very  many  in- 
stances. The  immediate  effects  of  virtue  and  vice  upon 
the  mind  and  temper  are  to  be  mentioned  as  instances  of 
it.  Vice,  as  such,  is  naturally  attended  with  some  sort  of 
uneasiness,  and  not  uncommonly  with  great  disturbance 
and  apprehension.  That  inward  feeling  which  respecting 
lesser  matters  and  in  familiar  speech,  we  call  being  vexed 
with  one's  ?elf,  an/1  in  matters  of  importance,  and  in  mor* 


70  OF    THE    MOKAL  [PART 

serious  language,  remorse,  is  an  uneasiness  naturally  arising 
from  an  action  of  man's  own,  reflected  upon  by  himself  as 
wrong,  unreasonable,  faulty,  i.  e.  vicious  in  greater  or  less 
degrees  ;  and  this  manifestly  is  a  different  feeling  from  that 
uneasiness  which  arises  from  a  sense  of  mere  loss  or  harm. 
What  is  more  common  than  to  hear  a  man  lamenting  an 
accident  or  event,  and  adding, — But,  however,  he  has  the 
satisfaction  that  he  cannot  blame  himself  for  it ;  or,  on  the 
contrary,  that  he  has  the  uneasiness  of  being  sensible  it  was 
his  own  doing  ?  Thus  also,  (he  disturbance  and  fear  which 
often  follow  upon  a  man's  having  done  an  injury,  arise  from 
a  sense  of  his  being  blame-worthy  ;  otherwise  there  would, 
in  many  cases,  be  no  ground  of  disturbance  nor  any  reason 
to  fear  resentment  or  shame.  On  the  other  hand,  inward 
security  and  peace,  and  a  mind  open  to  the  several  gratifi- 
cations of  life,  are  the  natural  attendants  of  innocence  and 
virtue  ;  to  which  must  be  added,  the  complacency,  satisfac- 
tion, and  even  joy  of  heart,  which  accompany  the  exercise, 
the  real  exercise,  of  gratitude,  friendship,  benevolence. 

And  here,  I  think,  ought  to  be  mentioned,  the  fears  of 
future  punishment,  and  peaceful  hopes  of  a. better  life,  in 
those  who  fully  believe  or  have  any  serious  apprehension  of 
religion ;  because  these  hopes  and  fears  are  present  uneasi- 
ness and  satisfaction  to  the  mind,  and  cannot  be  got  rid  of  by 
great  part  of  the  world,  even  by  men  who  have  thought 
most  thoroughly  upon  that  subject  of  religion.  And  no 
one  can  say  how  considerable  this  uneasiness  and  sa- 
tisfaction may  be,  or  what,  upon  the  whole,  it  may 
amount  to. 

In  the  next  place  comes  in  the  consideration,  that  all 
honest  and  good  men  are  disposed  to  befriend  honest  good 
men,  as  such,  and  to  discountenance  the  vicious,  as  such, 
and  do  so  in  some  degree,  indeed  in  a  considerable  degree  j 
from  which  favor  and  discouragement  cannot  but  arise 
considerable  advantage  and  inconvenience.  Arid  though 
the  generality  of  the  world  have  little  regard  to  the  morality 
of  their  own  actions,  and  may  be  supposed  to  have  less  to 
that  of  others,  when  they  themselves  are  not  concerned  ;  yet, 
let  any  one  be  known  to  be  a  man  of  virtue,  somehow  01 
other  he  will  be  favored,  and  good  offices  will  be  done  him 
from  regard  to  his  character,  without  remote  vrews,  occa- 
sionally, and  in  some  low  degree,  I  think,  by  the  generali- 
ty of  the  world,  as  it  happens  to  come  in  their  way.  Public 
honors,  too,  and  advantages,  are  the  natural  consequences, 


CHAP.    1II.J  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  7l 

are  sometimes  at  least  the  consequences  in  fact,  of  virtuous 
actions,  of  eminent  justice,  fidelity,  charity,  love  to  our  coun- 
try, considered  in  the  view  of  being  virtuous.     An  1  some 
times  even  death  itself,  often  infamy  and  external  inconven- 
iences, are  the  public  consequences  of  vice,  as  vice.     For 
instance,  the  sense  which  mankind  have  of  tyranny,  injus- 
tice, oppression,  additional  to  the  mere  feeling  or  fear  of  mis- 
ery, has  doubtless  been    instrumental  in   bringing  about 
resolutions,  which  make  a  figure  even  in  the  hjsiory  of  the 
world.     For  it  is  plain  men  resent  injuries  as  implying  fuul- 
tiness,  and  retaliate,  not  merely  under  the  notion  of  having 
received  harm,  but  of  having  received  wrong ;   and  they 
have  this  resentment  in  behalf  of  others,  as  wen  as  of  them- 
selves.    So.  likewise,  even  the  generality  are,  in  some  de- 
gree, grateful  and  disposed  to  return  good  offices,  not  mere- 
ly because  such  a  one  has  been  the  occasion  of  good  to 
them,  but  under  the  view  that  such  good  offices  implied 
kind  intention  and  good  desert  in  the  doer.     To  all  this  i>my 
be  added  two  or  three  particular  things,  which  many  per- 
sons will  think  frivolous  ;  but  to  me  ncvhing  appears  so, 
which  at  all  comes  in  towards  determining  a  question  of  such 
importance,  as  whether  there  be  or  be  not  a  moral  insutu 
tion  of  government,  in  the  strictest  sense  moral,  visibly  es- 
tablished and  begun  in  nature.     The  particular  things  are 
these  :    That  in  domestic  government,  which  is  doubtless 
natural,  children,  and  others  also,  are  very  generally  punish- 
ed for  falsehood,  and  injustice,  and  ill-behaviour,  as  such,  ami 
rewarded  for  the  contrary  ;  which  are  instances  where  vera- 
city, and  justice,  ami  right  behaviour,  as  such,  are  naturally 
enforced  by  rewards  anil  punishments,  wheshei  more  or  less 
considerable  in  degree  :    that  though  civil  government  be 
supposed  to  take  cognizance  of  actions  in  no  other  view 
than  as  prejudicial  to  society,  without  lespect  to  the  mo- 
rality of  them,  yet  as  such  actions  are  immoral,  so  tho 
sense  which  men  have  of  the  immorality  of  them  very  great- 
ly contributes,  in  different  ways,  to  bring  offenders  to  justice ; 
and  that  entire  absence  of  all  crime  and  guilt,  in  the  moral 
sense,  when  plainly  appearing,  will  almost,  of  course  procure, 
and  circumstances  of  aggravated  guilt  prevent,  a  rtnuesian 
of  the.  penalties  annexed  to  civil  crimes,   in  many  casra, 
though  by  no  means  in  all. 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  besides  the  good  tvnd  bad  effects 
of  virtue  and  vicis  upon  men's  own  minds,  the  course  of  the 
*orld  does,  in  some  measure,  turn  upon  the  approbation  and 


72  OF    THE    MORAL  L?ART  I, 

disapprobation  of  them,  as  such,  in  others.  The  sense  of 
weil  anil  ill  doing,  the  presages  of  conscience,  the  love  of 
erood  characters  and  dislike  of  bad  ones,  honor,  shame,  re« 
sentment,  gratitude  ;  all  these,  considered  in  themselves, 
and  in  their  effects,  do  afford  manifest  real  instances  of  vir« 
ti'.e.  as  such,  naturally  favored,  tmd  of  vice,  as  such,  dis- 
countenanced, more  or  less,  in  the  daily  course  of  human 
life  ;  in  every  age,  in  every  relation,  in  every  general  cir- 
cumstance of  it.  That  God  has  given  us  a  moral  nature,* 
may  most  justly  be  urged  as  a  proof  of  our  being  under  hia 
moral  government ;  but  that  he  has  placed  us  in  a  condition, 
which  gives  this  nature,  as  one  may  speak,  scope  to  operate 
and  in  which  it  does  unavoidably  operate,  i.  e.  influence 
mankind  to  act,  so  as  thus  to  favor  and  reward  virtue,  and 
discountenance  and  punish  vice ;  this  is  not  the  same,  but  a 
further  additional  proof  of  his  moral  government ;  for  it  is 
an  instance  of  it.  The  first  is  a  proof  that  he  will  finally 
favor  and  support  virtue  effectually ;  the  second  is  an  ex- 
ample of  his  favoring  and  supporting  it  at  present,  in  some 
degree. 

If  a  more  distinct  inquiry  be  made,  when  it  arises,  that 
virtue,  as  such,  is  often  rewarded,  and  vice,  as  such  is  pun 
tshed,  and  this  rule  never  inverted  ;  it  will  be  found  to  pro- 
ceed, in  part,  immediately  from  the  moral  nature  itself  which 
God  has  given  us  ;  and  also,  in  part,  from  his  having  given 
us,  together  with  this  nature,  so  great  a  power  over  each 
other's  happiness  and  misery.  For,  first,  it  is  certain,  that 
peace  and  delight,  in  some  degree  and  \ipon  some  occasions, 
is  the  necessary  and  present  effect  of  virtuous  practice  ;  an 
effect  arising  immediately  from  that  constitution  of  our  na- 
ture. We  are  so  made,  that  well-doing,  as  such,  gives  us 
satisfaction,  at  least  in  some  instances  ;  ill-doing,  as  such,  in 
none.  And,  secondly,  from  our  moral  nature,  joined  with 
Gad's  having  put  our  happiness  and  misery,  in  many  respects, 
in  each  other's  power,  it  cannot  but  be  that  vice,  as  such, 
some  kinds  and  instances  of  it  at  least,  will  be  infamous,  and 
men  will  be  disposed  to  punish  it  as  in  itself  detestable  ;  and 
the  villain  will  by  no  means  be  able  always  to  avoid  feeling 
that  infamy,  any  more  than  he  will  be  able  to  escape  this 
farther  punishment  which  mankind  will  be  disposed  to  in- 
flict upon  him,  under  the  notion  of  his  deserving  it.  But 
ihere  can  be  nothng  on  the  side  of  vice  to  answer  this 

•.  See  Dissertation  2. 


CHAP.  III.J  GOVERNMENT  OF  GOD.  73 

because  there  is  nothing  in  the  human  mind  contradictory, 
as  the  logicians  speak,  to  virtue.  For  virtue  consists  in  a 
regard  to  what  is  right  and  reasonable,  as  being  so  :  in  a 
regard  to  veracity,  justice,  charity,  in  themselves  :  and  there 
is  surely  nq-such  thing  as  a  like  natural  regard  to  false- 
hood, injustice,  cruelty.  If  it  be  thought,  that  there  are  in- 
stances of  an  approbation  of  vice,  as  such,  in  itself,  and  for 
its  own  sake,  (though  it  does  not  appear  to  me  that  there  is 
any  such  thing  at  all ;  but,  supposing  there  be,)  it  is  evi- 
deivJy  monstrous  j  as  much  so  as  the  most  acknowledged 
perversion  of  any  passion  whatever.  Such  instances  oi 
perversion,  then,  being  left  out  as  merely  imaginary,  or,  how- 
ever, unnatural ;  it  must  follow,  from,  the  frame  of  our  nature, 
and  from  our  condition,  in  the  respects  now  described,  that 
vice  cannot  at  all  be,  and  virtue  cannot  but  be,  favored,  as 
such,  by  others,  upon  some  occasions  ;  and  happy  in  itself, 
in  some  degree.  For  what  is  here  insisted  upon,  is  not  in 
the  degree  in  which  virtue  and  vice  are  thus  distinguished, 
but  only  the  thing  itself,  that  they  are  so  in  some  degree  j 
though  the  whole  good  and  bad  effect  of  virtue  and  vice,  as 
such,  is  not  inconsiderable  in  degree.  But  that  they  must 
be  thus  distinguished,  in  some  degree,  is  in  a  manner  neccs- 
,ary  ;  it  is  matter  of  fact,  of  daily  experience,  even  in  the 
greatest  confusion  of  human  affairs. 

It  is  not  pretended  but  that,  in  the  natural  course  of 
things,  happiness  and  misery  appear  to  be  distributed  by 
other  rules,  than  only  the  personal  merit  and  demerit  of 
characters.  They  may  sometimes  be  distributed  by  way 
of  mere  discipline.  There  may  be  the  wisest,  and  best  rea- 
sons why  the  world  should  be  governed  by  general  laws, 
from  whence  such  promiscuous  distribution  perhaps  must 
follow  ;  and  also  why  our  happiness  and  misery  should  be 
put  in  each  other's  power,  in  the  degree  which  ihey  are. 
And  these  things,  as  in  general  they  contribute  to  the  re- 
warding virtue  and  punishing  vice,  as  such  ;  so  they  often 
contribute  also,  not  to  the  inversion  of  this,  which  is  impos- 
sible, but  to  the  rendering  persons  prosperous  though  wick- 
ed, afflicted  though  righteous  ;  and,  which  is  worse,  to  the 
rewarding  some  actions,  though  vicious,  and  punishing  other 
notions,  though  virtuous.  But  all  this  cannot  drown  the 
voice  of  nature  in  the  conduct  of  Providence  plainly  declar- 
ing itself  for  virtue,  by  way  of  distinction  from  vies,  and 
preference  to  it.  For,  our  being  so  constituted  as  that  virtue 
and  vice  are  tnus  naturally  favored  and  discountenanced, 


•4  OP   THE   MORAL  [PART L 

rewarded  and  punished  respectively  as  such,  is  an  intuitive 
r-rouf  of  the  intent  of  nature  that,  it  should  be  so  ;  otherwise 
me  constitution  of  our  mind,  from  which  it  thus  immediately 
an.l  directly  proceeds,  would  be  absurd.  But  it  cannot  be 
snid,  because  virtuous  actions  are  sometimes  polished,  and 
vu;i  MIS  actions  rewarded,  that  nature  intended  it.  For, 
>~hcugh  this  grout  disorder  is  brought  about,  as  all  action 
;ir»:  done,  I«y  means  of  some  natural  passion,  }^et  this  may  be, 
a*  it  undo'ibte'ily  is,  brought  about  by  the  perversi-m  of  such 
passion,  implanted  in  us  for  other,  and  those  very  good  pur- 
pose*. A  nd  indeed  these  other  and  good  purposes,  even  (if 
every  passion,  may  be  clearly  seen. 

\Ve  have  tli3n  a  declaration,  in  some  degree  of  present 
effect,  from  him  who  is  supreme  in  nature,  which  side  he 
is  of  or  what  part  he  takes ;  a  declaration  for  virtue,  and 
against  vice.  So  far,  therefore,  as  a  man  is  true  to  virtue 
to  ver-icity  and  justice,  to  equity  and  charity,  and  the  right 
of  the  case,  in  whatever  he  is  concerned,  so  far  he  is  on  the 
s.^e  of  the  divine  administration,  and  cooperates  with  it ;  and 
from  Hence,  to  such  a  man,  arises  naturally  a  secret  satisfac- 
tion and  sense  of  security,  and  implicit  hope  of  somewhat 
fur!  her.  And, 

V.  This  hope  is  confirmed  by  the  necessary  tendencies  of 
virtue,  which,  though  not  of  present  effect,  yet  are  at  present 
discernible  in  nature ;  and  so  afford  an  instance  of  some- 
what mSnil  in  the  essential  constitution  of  it.  There  is,  in 
the  nature  of  things,  a  tendency  in  virtue  and  vice  to  pro 
due**  th"  food  and  bad  effects  now  mentioned,  in  a  greater 
degree  than  they  do  in  fact,  produce  them.  For  instance 
good  and  bad  men  would  be  much  more  rewarded  and  pun- 
ished as  such,  were  it  not  that  justice  is  often  artificially- 
eluded,  that  characters  are  not  known,  and  many  wh& 
would  thus  favor  virtue  and  discourage  vice,  are  hindered, 
from  doing  so  by  accidental  causes.  These  tendencies  ot 
virtue  and  vice  are  obvious  with  regard  to  individuals.  Bvu 
it  may  require  more  particularly  to  be  considered,  that  powo? 
in  a  society,  by  being  under  the  direction  of  virtue,  naturally 
increases,  and  has  a  necessary  tendency  to  prevail  over  op- 
posite power,  not  under  the  direction  of  it ;  in  like  manner 
as  power,  by  being  under  the  direction  of  reason,  increases, 
•mil  has  a  tendency  to  prevail  over  brute  force.  Theie  are 
•iev.jral  brute  creatures  of  equal,  and  several  of  superior 
strength,  to  that  of  men ;  and  possibly  the  sum  of  the  whola 
s'.rength  of  brutes  may  be  greater  than  that  cf  mankind  ; 


CHAP.    III.]  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  75 

but  reason  gives  us  the  advantage  and  superiority  ovei  nem. 
and  thus  man  is  the  acknowledged  governing  ar.unal  uf>on 
the  earth.  Nor  is  this  superiority  considered  by  any  aa 
accidental  ;  but  as  what  reason  has  a  tendency,  in  the  na- 
luie  of  the  thing,  to  obtain.  And  yet,  perhaps,  difficulties 
may  be  raised  about  the  meaning,  as  well  as  the  truth  of 
the  assertion,  that  virtue  has  the  like  tendency. 

To  obviate  these  difficulties,  let  us  see  more  distinctly 
how  the  case  stands  with  regard  to  reason,  which  is  sc 
readily  acknowledged  to  have  this  advantageous  tendency. 
Suppose,  then,  two  or  three  men,  of  the  best  and  most  im- 
proved understanding,  in  a  desolate  open  plain,  attacked  by 
ten  times  the  number  of  beasts  of  prey  ;  would  their  reason 
secure  them  the  victory  in  this  unequal  combat?  Power, 
then,  though  joined  with  reason,  ami  under  its  direction, 
cannot  be  expected  to  prevail  over  opposite  power,  though 
merely  brutal,  unless  the  one  bears  some  proportion  to  the 
other.  Again,  put  the  imaginary  case,  that  rational  and 
irrational  creatures  were  of  like  external  shape  and  man- 
ner ;  it  is  certain,  before  there  were  opportuniiies  for  the  first 
to  distinguish  each  other,  to  separate  from  their  adversaries, 
and  to  form  a  union  among  themselves,  they  might  be  upon 
a  level,  or,  in  several  respects,  upon  great  disadvantage, 
though,  united,  they  might  be  vastly  superior  ;  sii-ce  union 
is  of  such  efficacy,  that  ten  men,  united,  might  be  able  to 
accomplish  what  ten  thousand  of  the  same  natural  strength 
and  understanding,  wholly  ununited,  could  not.  In  this 
case,  then,  brute  force  might  more  than  maintain  its  ground 
against  reason,  for  want  of  union  among  the  ration;-.!  c na- 
tures. Or  suppose  a  number  of  men  to  land  upon  un  ifidiid 
inhabited  only  by  wild  beasts  ;  a  number  of  men,  who,  by 
the  regulations  of  civil  government,  the  inventions  of  art, 
and  the  experience  of  some  years,  could  they  be  preserved 
BO  long,  would  be  really  sufficient  to  subdue  the  wild  beas:a, 
and  to  preserve  themselves  in  security  from  them ;  yei,  n 
conjecture  of  accidents  might  give  such  advantage  to  the 
irrational  animals  as  that  they  might  at  once  overpower, 
and  even  extirpate,  the  whole  species  of  rational  ones. 
I.'.'igih  of  time,  then,  proper  scope  and  opportunities  for  rea- 
son to  exert  itself,  may  be  absolutely  nuces^ai}'  to  us  pre- 
vailing over  brute  force.  Further  still  ;  thore  arc  many  in- 
stances  of  brutes  succeeding  in  attempts  which  they  could 
not  nave  undertaken,  had  net  their  irrational  nature  render- 
fed  them  incapable  of  forseeing  the  danger  of  such  attempts, 


7G  OP    THE    MORAL  PART  I 

or  ihe  fury  of  passion  hindered  their  attending  to  it ;  and 
ih^re  are  instances  of  reason,  and  real  prudence  preventing 
men's  undertaking  what,  it  hath  appeared  afterwards,  thej 
might  have  succeeded  in  by  a  lucky  rashness.  And  in  outain 
conjunctures,  ignorance  and  folly,  weakness  and  discord, 
may  have  their  advantages.  So  that  rational  animals  have 
not  necessarily  the  superiority  over  irrational  ones ;  but, 
how  improbable  soever  it  may  be,  it  is  evidently  possible, 
that,  in  some  globes,  the  latter  may  be  superior.  And  were 
the  former  wholly  at  variance  and  disunited,  by  false  self-in 
terest  and  envy,  by  treachery  and  injustice,  and  consequent 
rage  and  malice  against  each  other,  whilst  the  latter  were 
firmly  united  among  themselves  by  instinct,  this  might 
greatly  contribute  to  the  introducing  such  an  inverted  order 
of  things.  For  every  one  would  consider  it  as  inverted  ; 
since  reason  has,  in  the  nature  of  it,  a  tendency  to  prevail 
over  brute  force,  notwithstanding  the  possibility  it  may  not 
prevail,  and  the  necessity  which  there  is  of  many  concur- 
ring circumstances  to  render  it  prevalent. 

Now,  I  say,  virtue  in  a  society  has  a  like  tendency  to 
procure  superiority  and  additional  power,  whether  this  power 
be  considered  as  the  means  of  security  from  opposite  power, 
or  of  obtaining  other  advantages.  And  it  has  this  tenden- 
cy, by  rendering  public  good  an  object  and  end  to  every 
member  of  the  society  ;  by  putting  every  one  upon  consi- 
deration and  diligence,  recollection  and  self-government, 
both  in  order  to  see  what  is  the  most  effectual  method,  and 
also  in  order  to  perform  their  proper  part,  for  obtaining  and 
preserving  it ;  by  uniting  a  society  within  itself,  and  so  in- 
creasing its  strength,  and,  which  is  particularly  to  bs  men- 
tioned, uniting  it  by  means  of  veracity  and  justice.  For  aa 
these  last  are  principal  bonds  of  union,  so  benevolence,  or 
public  spirit,  undirected,  unrestrained  by  them,  is — nobody 
knows  what. 

And  suppose  the  invisible  world,  and  the  invisible  dispen- 
sations of  Providence,  to  be  in  any  sort  analogous  to  what 
appears  ;  or,  that  both  together  make  up  one  uniform 
s  &euue,  the  two  parts  of  which,-  the  part  which  we  see,  and 
'.hat  which  is  beyond  our  observation,  are  analogous  to 
each  o:her  ;  then,  there  must  be  a  like  natural  tendency  in 
the  derived  power,  throughout  the  universe,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  virtue,  to  prevail  in  general  over  that  which  is  nol 
under  its  direction  ;  as  there  is  in  reason,  derived  reason  ir 
the  universe,  to  prevail  over  brute  force.  But  then,  in  order 


CHAP.  III.  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  77 

to  the  prevalence  of  virtue,  or  that  it  may  actually  produce 
what  it  has  a  tendency  to  produce,  the  like  concurrences 
are  necessary  as  are  to  the  prevalence  of  reason.  There 
must  be  sjme  proportion  between  the  natural  power  or  force 
which  is,  and  that  which  is  not,  under  the  direction  of  vir- 
tue •  There  must  be  Sufficient  length  of  time  ;  for  the  com- 
plete success  of  virtue,  as  of  reason,  cannot  from  the  nature 
of  the  thing,  be  otherwise  than  gradual :  there  must  be,  as 
one  may  speak,  a  fair  field  of  trial,  a  stage  large  and  exten- 
sive enough,  proper  occasions  and  opportunities  for  the  vir* 
tuous  to  join  together,  to  exert  themselves  against  lawless 
force,  and  to  reap  the  fruit  of  their  united  labours.  Now 
indeed  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the  disproportion  between  the 
good  and  the  bad,  even  here  on  earth,  is  not  so  great,  but 
that  the  former  have  natural  power  sufficient  to  their  pre- 
vailing to  a  considerable  degree,  if  circumstances  would 
permit  this  power  to  be  united.  For,  much  less,  very  much 
less  power,  under  the  direction  of  virtue,  would  prevail  over 
much  greater,  not  under  the  direction  of  it.  However,  good 
men  over  the  face  of  the  earth  cannot  unite  ;  as  for  other 
reasons,  so  because  they  cannot  be  sufficiently  ascertained 
of  each  other's  characters.  And  the  known  course  of  hu- 
man things,  the  scene  we  are  now  passing  through,  parti- 
cularly the  shortness  of  life,  denies  to  virtue  its  full  scope 
in  several  other  respects.  The  natural  tendency  which 
we  have  been  considering,  though  real,  is  hindered  from  be- 
ing carried  into  effect  in  the  present  state,  but  these  hindran- 
ces may  be  removed  in  a  future  one.  Virtue,  to  borrow  the 
Christian  allusion,  is  militant  here,  and  various  untoward 
accidents  contribute  to  its  being  often  overborne  ;  but  it  may 
combat  with  greater  advantage  hereafter,  and  prevail  com- 
pletely and  enjoy  its  consequent  rewards,  in  some  future 
states.  Neglected  as  it  is,  perhaps  unknown,  perhaps  des- 
pised and  oppressed  here,  there  may  be  scenes  in  eternity, 
lasting  enough,  and  in  every  other  way  adapted,  to  afford  it 
a  sufficient  sphere  of  action,  and  a  sufficient  sphere  for  the 
natural  consequences  of  it  to  follow  in  fact.  If  the  soul  be 
naturally  immortal,  and  this  state  to  be.  a  progress  towards 
a  future  one,  as  childhood  is  towards  mature  age,  good  men 
may  naturally  unite,  not  only  amongst  themselves,  but  also 
with  other  orders  of  virtuous  creatures,  in  that  future  suite. 
For  virtue,  from  the  very  nature  of  it,  is  a  principal  and 
bond  of  union,  in  some  degree,  amongst  all  who  are  endued 
vith  it,  and  known  to  each  other  j  so  as  that  by  it  a 


IB  OF    THE   MORAL  [PART  I 

good  man  cannot  but  recommend  himself  to  the  favor  and 
protection  of  all  virtuous  beings,  throughout  the  whole  uni- 
verse, who  can  be  acquainted  with  his  character,  and  can 
any  way  interpose  in  his  behalf  in  at.y  part  of  his  duration. 
Anii  one  might  add,  that  suppose  all  this  advantageous  ten- 
dency of  virtue  to  become  effect  among*st  one  or  more  orders  d 
creatures,  in  any  distant  scenes  and  periods,  and  to  be  seen 
by  any  orders  of  vicious  creatures,  throughout  the  universal 
kingdom  of  God  ,  this  happy  effect  of  virtue  would  have  a 
tendency,  by  way  of  example,  and  possibly  in  other  ways, 
to  amend  those  of  '.hem  who  are  capable  of  amendment, 
and  being  recovered  to  a  just  sense  of  virtue.  If  our  notions 
of  the  plan  of  Providence  were  enlarged,  in  any  sort  pro- 
portionable to  what  late  discoveries  have  enlarged  our  views 
with  respect  to  the  material  world,  representations  of  this 
k:i)'l  would  not  appear  absurd  or  extravagant.  However, 
they  are  not  to  be  taken  as  intended  for  a  literal  deline- 
ation of  what  is  in  fact  the  particular  scheme  of  the  uni- 
verse, which  cannot  be  known  without  revelation  ;  foi  sup- 
positions are  not  to  be  looked  on  as  true,  because  not  incre- 
dible, bui  they  are  mentioned  to  show,  that  our  finding 
virtue  to  be  hindered  from  procuring  to  itself  such  superiority 
and  advantages,  is  no  objection  against  its  having  in  the 
essential  nature  of  the  thing,  a  tendency  to  procure  them. 
And  the  suppositions  now  mentioned  do  plainly  show  this  ; 
for  they  show,  that  these  hindrances  are  so  far  from  being 
necessary,  that  \re  ourselves  can  easily  conceive  how  they 
may  be  removed  in  future  states,  and  full  scope  be  granted 
to  virtue.  And  all  these  advantageous  tendencies  of  it  are 
to  be  considered  as  declarations  of  God  in  its  favor.  This, 
however,  is  taking  a  pretty  large  compass  ;  though  it  is 
certain,  that  as  the  material  world  appears  to  be,  in  a  man- 
ner, boundless  and  immense,  there  must  be  some  schemt  of 
Providence  vast  in  proportion  to  it. 

But  let  us  return  to  the  earth,  our  habitation,  and  we 
sl.dll  see  this  happy  tendency  of  virtue,  by  imagining  an 
instance  not  so  vast  and  remote  ;  by  supposing  a  kingdom, 
01  society  of  men,  upon  it,  perfectly  virtuous,  for  a  succession 
of  many  ages  ;  to  which,  if  you  please,  may  be  given  a  sit« 
uaiinn  advantageous  to  universal  monarchy.  In  such  a 
etate  ihore  would  be  no  such  thing  as  faction,  but  men  of 
liie  greatest  capacity  would,  of  course,  all  along,  have  the 
chiuf  direction  of  affairs  willingly  yielded  to  them,  and  they 
would  share  it  among  themselves  without  envy  Each  of 


CHAP.    III.]  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  ^0 

these  would  have  the  part  assigned  him  to  which  his  gen- 
ius was  peculiarly  adapted  j  and  others,  whtf  had  not  p.ny 
distinguished  genius,  would  be  safe,  and  think  themselve": 
very  happy,  by  being  under  the  protection  and  guidance  of 
those  who  had.  Public  determinations  would  really  be  the 
result  of  the  united  wisdom  of  the  community,  and  they 
would  faithfully  be  executed  by  the  united  strength  of  it. 
Some  would  in  a  higher  way  contribute,  but  all  would  iu 
some  way  contribute  to  the  public  prosperity,  and  in  it  eacb 
would  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  own  virtue.  And  as  injustice, 
whether  by  fraud  or  force,  would  be  unknown  among  them- 
selves, so  they  would  be  sufficiently  secured  fro  in  i:  in  their 
neighbors.  For  cunning  and  false  self-interest,  confedera- 
cies" in  injustice,  ever  slight  and  accompanied  with  faction 
and  intestine  treachery  ;  these,  on  one  hand,  would  bo  found 
meie  childish  folly  and  weakness,  when  set  in  opposition 
against  wisdom,  public  spirit,  union  inviolable,  and  fidelity 
on  the  other,  allowing  both  a  sufficient  length  of  years  to 
try  their  force.  Add  the  general  influence  which  such  a 
kingdom  would  have  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  by  way  of 
example  particularly,  and  the  reverence  which  would  be 
paid  it.  It  would  plainly  be  superior  to  all  others,  and  the 
world  must  gradually  come  under  its  empire  ;  not  by  means 
of  lawless  violence,  but  partly  by  what  must  be  allowed  to 
be  just  conquest,  and  partly  by  olher  kingdoms  submitting 
themselves  voluntarily  to  it  throughout  a  course  of  ages, 
and  claiming  its  protection,  one  after  another,  in  successive 
exigencies.  The  head  of  it  would  be  a  universal  monarch, 
in  another  sense  than  any  mortal  has  yet  been,  and  the  eas 
tern  style  would  be  literally  applicable  to  him,  that  all  p?.o 
pie,  nations,  and  languages  should  serve  him.  And  i  hough 
indeed  our  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  the  whole  his- 
tory of  mankind,  show  the  impossibility,  without  some  mi- 
raculous interposition,  that  a  number  of  men  here  on  earth 
shall  unite  in  one  society  or  government,  in  the  fear  of  God 
and  universal  practice  of  virtue,  and  that  such  a  govern- 
ment should  continue  so  united  for  a  succession  of  ag^s ; 
yet,  admitting  or  supposing  this,  the  effect  would  be  as  now 
drawn  out.  And  thus,  for  instance,  the  wonderful  power 
and  prosperity  promised  to  'he  Jewish  nation  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, would  be,  in  a  great  measure,  the  consequence  of 
what  is  predicateti  of  them  that  the  '  people  should  be  all 
righteous  and  inherit  the  'and  forever  ;'*  were  we  to  under- 

*  I*.  Ix.  2L 


80  OF    THE    MORAL  | PART  I 

stand  the  latter  phrase  of  a  long  continuance  only,  sufficient 
to  pnve  things  time  to  work.  The  predictions  of  this  kind, 
for  there  are  many  of  them,  cannot  come  to  pass  in  the 
present  known  course  of  nature  ;  but  suppose  them  come 
'to  pass,  and  then  the  dominion  and  pre-eminence  promised 
must  naturally  follow,  to  a  very  considerable  degree. 

Consider,  now,  the  general  system  of  religion  ;  that  the 
government  of  the  world  is  uniform,  and  one,  and  moral ; 
that  virtue  and  right  shall  finally  have  the  advantage,  and 
prevail  over  fraud  and  lawless  force,  over  the  deceits  as  well 
as  the  violence  of  wickedness,  under  the  conduct  of  one  su- 
preme Governor  ;  and  from  the  observations  above  made  it 
will  appear,  that  God  has,  by  our  reason,  given  us  to  see  a 
peculiar  connexion  in  the  several  parts  of  this  scheme,  and 
a  tendency  towards-  the  completion  of  it,  arising  out  of  the 
very  nature  of  virtue  ;  which  tendency  is  to  be  considered 
as  somewhat  moral  in  the  essential  constitution  of  things 
If  any  one  should  think  all  this  to  be  of  little  importance,  I 
desire  him  to  consider  what  «he  would  think,  if  vice  had,  ea 
sentially  and  in  its  nature,  these  advantageous  tendencies, 
or  if  virtue  had  essentiallj-  the  direct  contrary  ones. 

But  it  may  be  objected,  that  notwithstanding  all  these 
natural  effects,  and  these  natural  tendencies  of  virtue,  yet 
things  may  be  now  going  on  throughout  the  universe,  and 
may  go  on  hereafter,  in  the  same  mixed  way  as  here  at 
present  upon  earth  ;  virtue  sometimes  prosperous,  some- 
times depressed ;  vice  sometimes  punished,  sometimes  suc- 
cessful. The  answer  to  which  is,  that  it  is  not  the  purpose 
of  this  chapter,  nor  of  this  treatise,  properly  to  prove  God*a 
perfect  moral  government  over  the  world,  or  the  truth  of  re 
ligion,  but  to  observe  what  there  is  in  the  constitution  and 
course  of  nature  to  confirm  the  proper  proof  of  it,  supposed 
to  be  known,  and  that  the  weight  of  the  foregoing  observa- 
tions to  this  purpose  may  be  thus  distinctly  proved.  Pleas- 
ure and  pain  are  indeed,  to  a  certain  degree,  say  to  a  very 
high  d3gree,  distributed  amongst  us,  without  any  apparent 
regard  to  the  merit  or  demerit  of  characters.  And  were 
there  nothing  else,  concerning  this  matter,  discernible  in  the 
constitution  and  course  of  nature,  there  would  be  no  ground, 
from  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature,  to  hope  or  tc 
fear,  that  men  would  be  rewarded  or  punished  hereafter  ac- 
cording to  their  deserts  ;  which,  however,  it  is  to  be  remark- 
ed, implies,  that  even  then  there  would  be  no  ground,  from 
appearances,  to  think  that  vice,  upon  the  whole,  would  Itdv* 


CHAP.    III.J  GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD.  81 

'.he  advantage,  rather  than  that  virtue  would.  And  thug 
the  proof  of  a  future  slate  of  retribution  would  rest  upon  the 
usual  known  arguments  for  it ;  which  are,  I  think,  plainly 
unanswerable,  and  would  be  so,  though  there  were  no  addi 
tional  confirmation  of  them  from  the  things  above  insisted 
on.  But  these  things  are  a  very  strong  confirmation  of 
them :  For, 

First,  they  show  that  the  Author  of  nature  is  not  indirTer 
ent  to  virtue  and  vice.  They  amount  to  a  declaration  from 
him,  determinate,  and  not  to  be  evaded,  in  favor  of  one,  and 
against  the  other  :  such  a  declaration  as  there  is  nothing-  to 
be  set  over  against,  or  answer,  on  the  part  of  vice.  So  that 
were  a  man,  laying  aside  the  proper  proof  of  religion,  to 
determine  from  the  course  of  nature  only,  whether  it  were 
most  probable  that  the  righteous  or  the  wicked  would  have 
the  advantage  in  a  future  life,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but 
that  he  would  determine  the  probability  to  be,  that  the  for 
mer  would.  The  course  of  nature,  then,  in  the  view  of  it 
now  given,  furnishes  us  with  a  real  practical  proof  of  the 
obligations  of  religion. 

Secondly,  When,  conformably  to  what  religion  teaches  us, 
God  shall  reward  and  punish  virtue  and  vice,  as  such,  so  as 
that  every  one  shall,  upon  the  whole,  have  his  deserts,  this 
distributive  justice  will  not  be  a  thing  different,  in  kind,  but 
only  in  degree,  from  what  we  experience  in  his  present  gov- 
ernment. It  will  be  that  in  effect,  toward  which  we  now  see 
a  tendency.  It  will  be  no  more  than  the  completion  of  that 
moral  government,  the  principles  and  beginning  of  which 
have  been  shown,  beyond  all  dispute,  discernible  in  the 
present,  constitution  and  course  of  nature.  And  from  hence 
it  follows, 

Thirdly,  That  as,  under  the  natural  government  of  God, 
our  experience  of  those  kinds  and  degrees  of  happiness  and 
misory,  which  we  do  experience  at  present,  gives  just  ground 
to  hope  for  and  to  fear  higher  degrees  and  other  kinds  of 
both  in  a  future  state,  supposing  a  future  state  admitted  ;  so, 
tinder  his  moral  government,  our  experience  that  virtue  and 
vice  are,  in  the  manners  above-mentioned,  actually  reward- 
ed and  punished  at  present,  in  a  certain  degree,  gives  just 
ground  to  hope  and  to  fear  that  they  may  be  rewarded  and 
punished  in  a  higher  degree  hereafter.  It  is  acknowledged, 
indeed,  that  this  alone  is  not  sufficient  ground  to  think,  that 
they  actually  will  be  rewarded  and  punished  in  a.  higher  de- 
gree, rather  than  in  a  lower  :  But  then, 


82  OP    THE    MORAL  [PAUT    L 

Lastly,  There  is  sufficient  ground  to  think  so,  from  the 
good  and  bad  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice.  For  these  ten- 
di-nc-ics  are  essential,  and  (bunded  in  the  nature  of  thinirs  ; 
whereas  the  hindrances,  to  iheir  becoming  effects  are.  in 
numberless  cases,  not  necessary,  but  artificial  only.  Now, 
it  may  be  much  more  strongly  urged,  that  these  tendencies, 
as  well  as  the  actual  rewards  and  punishments  of  virtue  and 
vi(  a,  which  arise  directly  out  of  the  nature  of  things,  \vill 
rei.iain.  hereafter,  than  that  the  accidental  hinderances  of 
them  will.  And  if  these  hinderances  do  not  remain,  those 
rewards  and  punishments  cannot  but  be  carried  on  mucb 
further  towards  the  perfection  of  moral  government,  i.  e.  the 
tendency  of  virtue  and  vice  will  become  effect ;  but  when, 
or  where,  or  in  what  particular  way,  cannot  be  known  al 
all  but  by  revelation. 

Upon  the  w'lole.  there  is  a  kind  of  moral  government  im- 
plied in  Ood'ij  natural  government ;  virtue,  and  vice  are 
naturally  rewarded  and  punished  as  beneficial  and  mis- 
chievous to  society,  and  rewarded  and  punished  directly  as 
virtue  and  vice.  The  notion,  then,  of  a  moral  scheme  of 
government,  is  not  fictitious,  but  natural ;  for  it  is  suggested 
to  our  thoughts  by  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature, 
and  the  execution  of  this  scheme  is  actually  begun,  in  the 
instances  here  mentioned.  And  these  things  are  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  declaration  of  the  Author  of  nature,  for  virtue, 
and  ajiiii'-ist  vice  ;  they  give  a  credibility  to  the  supposition 
of  their  being  rewarded  and  punished  hereafter,  and  also 
ground  to  hope  and  to  fear,  that  they  may  be  rewarded  and 
pur;.shed  in  h'ffher  degrees  than  '-hey  are  here.  And  as  all 
this  is  confirmed,  so  the  argument  for  religion,  from  the  con- 
stitution and  course  of  nature,  is  carried  on  farther,  by  observ- 
ing, tiuit  there  are  natural  tendencies,  and,  in  innumerable 
cases,  only  artificial  hindrances,  to  this  moral  scheme  b'nng 
earned  on  much  farther  towards  perfection  than  it  is  at  pre- . 
sour.  The  notion,  then,  of  a  moral  scheme  of  govern- 
ment, much  more  perfect  than  what  is  seen,  is  not  a  ficti- 
tious, but  a  natural  notion,  for  it  is  suggested  to  our  thoughts 
by  J;e  essential  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice.  And  these 
tendencies  are  to  be  considered  as  intimation?,  as  implicit 
promises  and  threatenings,  from  the  Author  nf  nature,  of 
iiu!c.li  greater  rewards  and  punishments  to  follow  virtue  and 


. 

C*AP.  HI.]  GOVERNMENT    OF    GO.t  8J 

vice,  than  do  at  present.  And,  indeed,  every  natural  ten- 
dency, which  is  to  continue,  but,  which  is  hindered  from  be- 
coming effect  by  only  accidental  causes,  afibrds  a  presump- 
tion, that  such  tendency  will,  some  time  or  other,  become 
eflVct :  a  presumption  in  degree  proportionable  to  the  length 
of  the  duration  through  which  such  tendency  will  continue. 
Aui  from  these  things  together  arises  a  real  presumption, 
that,  uie  moral  scheme  of  government  established  in  nature, 
ehali  be  carried  on  much  farther  towards  perfection  here- 
after, and,  I  think,  a  presumption  that  it  will  be  absolutely 
completed.  But  from  these  things,  joined  with  the  moral 
nature  which  God  has  given  us,  considered  as  given  us  by 
hiir,  arises  a  practical  proof*  that  it  will  be  completed  ;  a 
proilf  frsm  fact,  and  therefore  a  distinct  one  from  that  which 
is  dixluced  from  the  eternal  and  unalterable  relations,  tha 
fiiiiKsa  and  unfitness  of  actions. 

*  9h»  this  proof  drawn  out  briefly,  cbtp.  & 
7* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  implying  Trial,  Difficulties^  and 
Danger. 

THE  general  doctrine  of  religion,  that  our  present  life  is 
a  state  of  probation  for  a  future  one,  comprehends  under 
it  se\  oral  particular  things,  distinct  from  each  other.  Bui 
the  i'.rst  and  most  common  meaning  of  it  seems  to  be,  tha* 
our  future  interest  is  now  depending,  and  depending  upon 
ourselves  ;  that  we  have  eeope  and  opportunities  here  foi 
that  good  and  bad  behaviour,  which  God  will  reward  and 
punish  hereafter  ;  together  with  temptations  to  one,  as  well 
as  inducements  of  reason  to  the  other.  And  this  is,  in  great 
measure,  the  same  with  saying,  that  wo  are  under  the 
moral  government  of  God,  ami  to  give  an  account  of  oiv» 
actions  to  him.  For  the  notion  of  a  future  account,  and 
general  righteous  judgment,  implies  some  sort  of  teiupta 
tions  to  what  is  wrong,  otherwise  there  would  be  no  mora 
possibility  of  doing  wrong,  n'or  ground  foi  judgment  or  dia 
crimination.  But  there  is  this  difference,  that,  the  word  pro 
batiun  is  more  distinctly  and  particularly  expressive  of  allure 
inents  to  wrong,  or  difficulties  in  adhering  uniformly  to  wha 
is  light,  and  of  the  danger  of  miscarrying  by  such  temp'a 
tions,  than  the  words  moral  government.  A  state  of  proba 
tion,  then,  as  thus  particularly  implying  in  it  trial,  difficulties 
and  danger,  may  require  to  be  considered  distinctly  by  itseli 

And  as  the  moral  government  of  God,  which  religioi 
teaches  us,  implies,  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  trial  with  regard 
lo  a  future  world  ;  so  also  his  natural  government  over  us 
implies,  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  trial,  in  a  like  sense,  with 
regard  to  the  present  world.  Natural  government,  by  re- 
wards and  punishments,  as  much  implies  natural  trial,  aa 
moral  jjovermnent  does  moral  trial.  The  natural  govern 


CHAP.  IV.]  OF  A  STATE  OF  TRIAL.  85 

merit  of  God  here  jneant,*  consists  in  his  annexing  pleasure 
to  some  actions,  and  pain  to  others,  which  are  in  our  power 
to  do  or  forbear,  and  in  giving  us  notice  of  such  appoint- 
ment beforehand.  This  necessarily  implies,  that  he  has 
made  our  happiness  and  misery,  or  our  interest,  to  depend 
in  part  upon  ourselves.  And  so  far  as  men  have  tempta- 
tions to  any  course  of  action,  which  will  probably  occasion 
them  greater  temporal  inconvenience  and  uneasiness  than 
eatisfaction,  so  far  their  temporal  interest  is  in  danger  from 
themselves,  or  they  are  in  a  state  of  trial  with  respect  to  it. 
Now,  people  often  blame  others,  and  even  themselves,  for 
th*ir  misconduct  in  their  temporal  concerns.  And  we  find 
many  are  greatty  wanting  to  themselves,  and  miss  of  that 
natural  happiness  which  they  might  have  obtained  in  the 
present  life  ;  perhaps  every  one  does  in  some  degree.  But 
many  run  themselves  into  great  inconvenience,  and  into  ex- 
treme distress  and  misery,  not  through  incapacity  of  know- 
ing better,  and  doing  better  for  themselves,  which  would  be 
nothing  to  the  present  purpose,  but  through  their  own  fault. 
And  these  things  necessarily  imply  temptation,  and  danger 
of  miscarrying,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  with  respect  to 
our  worldly  interest  or  happiness.  Every  one,  too,  without 
having  religion  in  his  thoughts,  speaks  of  the  hazards  which 
young  people  ran  upon  their  setting  out  in  the  world  ;  haz- 
ards from  other  causes,  than  merely  their  ignorance,  and 
unavoidable  accidents.  And  some  courses  of  vice,  at  least, 
being  contrary  to  men's  worldly  interest  or  good,  temptations 
to  these  must  at  the  same  time  be  temptations  to  forego  our 
present  and  our  future  interest.  Thus,  in  our  natural  or 
temporaj  capacity,  we  are  in  a  state  of  trial,  *.  e.  of  difficulty 
and  danger,  analogous  or  like  to  our  moral  and  religious 
trial. 

This  will  more  distinctly  appear  to  any  one,  who  thinks 
it  worth  while,  more  distinctly,  to  consider  what  it  is  which 
constitutes  our  trial  in  both  capacities,  and  to  observe  how 
mankind  behave  under  it. 

And  that  which  constitutes  this  our  trial,  in  both  these 
capacities,  must  be  somewhat  either  in  our  external  circum- 
stances, or  in  our  nature.  For,  on  t.he  one  hand,  persons 
maybe  betrayed  into  wrong  behaviour  upon  surprise,  or 
ovucome  upon  any  other  very  singular  and  extraordinary 

*  Chan.  2. 


80  OP   A    STATE    OF    TRIAL.  [JPART    I 

external  occasions,  who  would,  otherwise,  have  preserved 
their  character  of  prudence  and  of  virtue ;  in  which  cases, 
every  one,  in  speaking  of  the  wrong  behaviour  of  these  per- 
sons, .vould  impute  it  to  such  particular  external  cireum- 
stances.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  men  who  have  contracted 
habits  of  vice  and  folly  of  any  kind,  or  have  some  particu- 
lar passions  in  excess,  will  seek  opportunities,  and,  as  it 
were,  go  out  of  their  way,  to  gratify  themselves  in  these 
respects,  at  the  expense  of  their  wisdom  and  their  virtue  ; 
led  to  it,  as  every  one  would  say,  not  by  external  tempta- 
tions, but  by  such  habits  and  passions.  And  the  account 
of  this  last  case  is,  that  particular  passions  are  no  more  co- 
incident with  prudence,  or  that  reasonable  $  elf-love,  the  end 
of  ^vhich  is  our  worldly  interest,  than  they  are  with  the  prin- 
ciple of  virtue  and  religion,  but  often  draw  contrary  ways 
to  one  as  well  as  to  the  other  ;  and  so  such  particular  pas 
sions  are  as  much  temptations  to  act  imprudently  with  re 
gard  to  our  worldly  interest,  as  to  act  viciously.*  However 
as  when  we  say,  men  are  misled  by  eternal  circumstances  of 
temptation,  it  cannot  but  be  understood,  that  there  is  some 
what  within  themselves,  to  render  those  circumstances 
temptations,  or  to  render  them  susceptible  of  impressions 
from  them  ;  so,  when  we  say,  they  are  misled  by  passions, 
it  is  always  supposed,  that  there  are  occasions,  circum- 
stances, and  objects,  exciting  these  passions,  and  affording 
means  for  gratifying  them.  And,  therefore,  temptations 
from  within,  and  from  without,  coincide,  and  mutually  imply 
each  other.  Now,  the  several  external  objects  of  the  appe- 
tites, passions,  and  affections,  being  present  to  the  senses,  or 
offering  themselves  to  the  mind,  and  so  exciting  emotions 
suitable  to  their  nature,  not  only  in  cases  where  ^hey  can 
be  gratified  consistently  with  innocence  and  piudence,  but 
also  in  cases  where  they  cannot,  and  yet  can  be  gratifi- 
ed imprudently  and  viciously ;  this  as  really  puts  them  in 
danger  of  voluntarily  foregoing  their  present  interest  or 
good,  as  their  future,  and  as  really  renders  self-denial  neces- 
sary to  secure  one  as  the  other  ;  i.  e.  we  are  in  a  like  state 
of  trial  with  respect  to  both,  by  the  very  same  passions,  ex- 
cited by  the  very  same  means.  Thus,  mankind  having  a 
temporal  interest  depending  upon  themselves,  and  a  prudent 
course  of  behaviour  being  necessary  to  secure  it,  passions 

*  See  Serraons  preached  at  the  Uolk.  1726,  2d  E<1.  205,  &c.    Pref.  p. 
E3.&C.     Serm.  p.  21,  &c. 


CHAP.  IV.]       OP  A  STATE  OP  TRIAI  gf 

inordinately  excited,  whether  by  means  of  example  or  by 
any  other  external  circumstance,  towards  such  objects,  a, 
such  times,  or  in  surh  degrees,  as  that  thoy  cannot  be  grati- 
fied consistently  with  worldly  prudence,  are  temptations 
dangerous,  and  too  often  successful  temptations,  to  forego  a 
greater  temporal  good  for  a  less  ;  i.  e.  to  forego  what  is,  upon, 
the  whole,  our  temporal  interest,  for  the  sake  of  a  present 
gratification.  This  is  a  description  of  our  state  of  trial  in 
our  temporal  capacity.  Substitute  now  the  \vordfuturc  for 
temporal,  and  virtue  for  prudence,  and  it  will  be  just  as  proper 
a  description  of  our  state  of  trial  in  our  religious  capacity  , 
so  analogous  are  they  to  each  other. 

If,  from  consideration  of  this  our  like  state  of  trial  in  both 
capacities,  we  go  on  to  observe  farther,  how  mankind  be- 
have under  it,  we  shall  find  there  are  some  who  have  so 
(ittle  sense  of  it,  that  they  scarce  look  beyond  the  passing 
day  ;  they  are  so  taken  up  with  present  gratifications,  as  to 
have,  in  a  manner,  no  feeling  of  consequences,  no  regard  to 
their  future  ease  or  fortune  in  this  life,  any  more  than  to  their 
happiness  in  another.  Some  appear  to  be  blinded  and  de- 
ceived by  inordinate  passion,  in  their  worldly  concerns,  a3 
much  as  in  religion.  Others  are,  not  deceived,  but,  as  it 
were,  forcibly  carried  away,  by  the  like  passions,  against 
their  better  judgment,  and  feeble  resolutions,  too,  of  acting 
better.  And  there  are  men,  and  truly  they  are  not  a  few, 
who  shamelessly  avow,  not  their  interests,  but  their  mere 
will  and  pleasure,  to  be  their  law  of  life  ;  and  \vho,  in  open 
defiance  of  every  thing  that  is  reasonable,  will  go  on  in  a 
course  of  vicious  extravagance,  foreseeing,  with  no  remorse 
and  little  fear,  that  it  will  be  their  temporal  ruin  ;  and  some 
of  them,  under  the  apprehension  of  the  consequences  of 
wickedness  in  another  stale  :  and,  to  speak  in  the  most 
moderate  way,  human  creatures  are  not  only  continually  lia- 
ble to  go  wrong  voluntarily,  but  we  see  likewise  that  they 
often  actually  do  so,  with  respect  to  their  temporal  interests, 
us  well  as  with  respect  to  religion. 

Thus,  our  difficulties  and  dangers,  or  our  trials  in  our 
temporal  and  our  religious  capacity,  as  they  proceed  from 
the  same  causes,  and  have  the  same  effect  upon  men's 
behaviour,  are  evidently  analogous,  and  of  the  same  kind. 

It  may  be  added,  that  as  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of 
miscarrying  in  our  religious  state  of  trial  are  greatly  in- 
creased, and,  one  is  ready  to  think,  in  a  manner  wholly 
made,  by  the  ill-behaviour  of  others ;  by  a  wrong  education, 


88  OP  A  STATE  OF  TRIAL.          [PART  I. 

wrong  in  a  moral  sense,  sometimes  positively  vicious  ;  b^ 
general  bad  example  ;  by  the  dishonest-  artifices  which  are 
got  into  business  of  all  kinds  ;  and,  in  very  many  parts  of 
the  world,  by  religion  being  corrupted  into  superstitions 
which  indulge  men  in  their  vices  ;  so,  in  like  manner,  the 
difficulties  of  conducting  ourselves  prudently  in  respect  to 
our  present  interests,  and  our  danger  of  being  led  aside  from 
pursuing  it,  are  greatly  increased  by  a  foolish  education,  and, 
after  we  come  to  mature  age,  by  the  extravagance  and 
carelessness  of  others,  whom  we  have  intercourse  with  j 
and  by  mistaken  notions,  very  generally  prevalent,  and  ta- 
ken up  from  common  opinion,  concerning  temporal  happi- 
ness, and  wherein  it  consists.  And  persons,  by  their  own 
negligence  and  folly  in  their  temporal  affairs,  no  less  than 
by  a  course  of  vice,  bring  themselves  into  new  difficulties, 
and,  by  habits  of  indulgence,  become  less  qualified  to  go 
through  them ;  and  one  irregularity  after  another  embar- 
rasses things  to  such  a  degree,  that  they  know  not  where- 
about they  are,  and  often  makes  the  path  of  conduct  so  in- 
tricate and  perplexed,  that  it  is  difficult  to  trace  it  out ;  diffi- 
cult even  to  determine  \vhat  is  the  prudent,  or  the  moral  part. 
Thus,  for  instance,  wrong  behaviour  in  one  stage  of  life, 
youth  ;  wrong,  I  mean,  considering  ourselves  only  in  out 
temporal  capacity,  without  taking  in  religion  ;  this,  in  sev- 
eral ways,  increases  the  difficulties  of  right  behaviour  in 
mature  age  ;  i.  e.  puts  us  into  a  more  disadvantageous  slato 
of  trial  in  our  temporal  capacity. 

We  are  an  inferior  part  cf  the  creation  of  God.  There 
are  natural  appearances  of  our  being  in  'a  state  of  degra- 
dation ;*  and  we  certainly  are  in  a  condition  which  does 
not  seem,  by  any  means,  the  most  advantageous  we  could 
imagine  or  desire,  either  in  our  natural  or  moral  capacity,  for 
securing  either  our  present  or  future  interest.  However, 
this  condition,  low,  and  careful,  and  uncertain  as  it  is,  does 
not  afford  any  just  ground  of  complaint :  For,  as  men  may 
manage  their  temporal  affairs  with  prudence,  and  so  pass 
their  days  here  on  earth  in  tolerable  ease  and  satisfaction,  by 
a  moderate  degree  of  care  ;  so,  likewise,  with  regard  to  reli- 
gion, there  is  no  more  required  than  what  they  are  wall  able 
to  do,  and  what  they  must  be  greatly  wanting  to  theinselvea 
if  they  neglect.  And  for  persons  to  have  that  put  upon 
them  which  they  are  well  able  to  go  through,  acd  no  more, 

*  Part  2,  Chap.  5. 


CHAP.    IV.]  OP    A    STATE    OF    TRIAL.  89 

we  na'.vraHy  consider  as  an  equitable  thing,  supposing  it 
done  by  proper  authority.  Nor  have  we  any  more  reason  to 
complain  of  it,  with  regard  to  the  Author  of  nature,  than 
of  his  not  having  given  us  other  advantages,  belonging  to 
other  orders  of  creatures. 

But  the  thing  here  insisted  upon  is,  that  the  state  of  trial 
which  religion  teaches  us  we  are  in,  is  reniered  credi- 
ble, by  its  being  throughout  uniform  and  of  a  piece 
with  ike  general  conduct  of  Providence  towards  us,  in 
all  other  respects  within  the  compass  of  our  knowledge. 
Indeed,  if  mankind,  considered  in  their  natuial  capacity 
as  inhabitants  of  this  world  only,  found  themselves,  from 
their  birth  to  their  death  in  a  settled  state  of  security 
and  happiness,  without  any  solicitude  or  thought  of 
'.heir  own  ;  or,  if  they  were  in  no  danger  of  being  brought 
into  inconveniences  and  distress  by  carelessness,  or  the  fo'lly 
of  passion,  through  bad  example,  the  treachery  of  others, 
or  the  deceitful  appearances  of  things  ;  were  this -our  natur- 
al condition,  then  it  might  seem  strange,  and  be  some  pre- 
sumption against  the  truth  of  religion,  that  it  represents  our 
future  and  more  general  interest,  as  not  secure  of  course, 
but  as  depending  upon  our  behaviour  and  requiring  recollec- 
tion and  self-government  to  obtain  it.  For  it  might  be  al- 
leged, '  What  you  say  is  our  condition  in  one  respect,  is  not 
in  any  wise  of  a  sort  with  what  we  find,  by  experience,  our 
condiiion  is  in  another.  Our  whole  present  interest  is  secur- 
ed to  our  hands,  without  any  solicitude  of  ours,  and  why 
should  not  our  future  interest,  if  we  have  any  such,  be  so 
too  1'  But  since,  on  the  contrary,  thought  and  considera- 
tion, the  voluntary  detainer  ourselves  many  things  which 
we  desire,  and  a  course  of  behaviour  far  from  being  always 
agreeable  to  us,  are  absolutely  necessary  to  our  acting  even 
a  common  decent,  and  common  irudent  part,  so  as  to  pass 
with  any  satisfaction  through  ,/ie  preser  t  world,  and  be  re- 
ceived upon  any  tolerable  good  terms  in  it ;  since  this  is  the 
case,  all  presumption  against  self-denial  and  attention  being 
necessary  to  secure  our  highest  interest,  is  removed.  Had 
we  not  experience,  it  might,  perhaps,  speciously  be  urged, 
that  it  is  improbable  any  thing  of  hazard  and  danger  should 
be  put  upon  us  by  an  infinite  Being,  when  every  thing 
R'hich  is  hazard  and  danger  in  our  manner  of  conception, 
and  will  end  in  error,  confusion,  and  misery,  is  now  already 
certain  in  his  foreknowledge.  And,  indeed,  why  any  thing 
of  hazard  and  danger  should  be  put  upon  such  frail  creatures 


90  OP    A    STATE    OF    TRIAL.  |  FAUX  1 

as  we  are,  may  well  be  thought  a  difficulty  in  speculation ; 
and  cannot  but  be  so,  till  we  know  the  whole,  or,  however, 
much  more  of  the  case.  But  still  the  constitution  of  nature 
is  as  it  is.  Our  happiness  and  misery  are  trusted  to  GUI 
conduct,  and  made  to  depend  upon  it.  Somewhat,  and,  in 
many  circumstances,  a  great  deal  too,  is  put  upon  us,  either  to 
do,  or  to  suffer,  as  we  choose.  And  all  the  various  miseries 
of  life,  which  people  bring  upon  themselves  by  negligence 
and  folly,  and  might  have  avoided  by  proper  care,  are  in- 
stances of  this  ;  which  miseries  are,  beforehand,  just  as  con- 
tingent and  undetermined  as  their  conduct,  and  left  to  be 
determined  by  it. 

These  observations  are  an  answer  to  the  objections 
against  the  credibility  of  a  state  of  trial,  as  implying  temp- 
tations, and  real  danger  of  miscarrying  with  regard  to  our 
general  interest,  under  the  moral  government  of  God  ;  and 
they  show,  that,  if  we  are  at  all  to  be  considered  in  such  a 
capacity,  and  as  having  such  an  interest,  the  general  analo- 
gy of  Providence  must  lead  us  to  apprehend  ourselves  in 
danger  of  miscarrying,  in  different  degrees,  as  to  this  inter- 
est, by  our  neglecting  to  act  the  proper  part  belonging  to  us 
in  that  capacity.  For  we  have  a  present  interest,  under 
the  government  of  God  which  we  experience  here  upon 
earth.  And  this  interest,  as  it  is  not  forced  upon  us,  so  nei- 
ther is  it  offered  to  our  acceptance,  but  to  our  acquisition  ; 
in  such  sort,  as  that  we  are  in  danger  of  missing  it,  by 
means  of  temptations  to  neglect  or  act  contrary  to  it ;  and 
without  attention  and  self-denial,  must  and  do  miss  of  it.  It 
;s  then  periectly  credible,  that  this  may  be  our  case  with 
respect  to  that  chief  and  final  good  which  religion  proposes 
tons. 


CHAP.  V.]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  91 


CHAPTER  V. 

Of  a  State  of  Probation,  as  intended  for  Moral  Discipline  and 

Improvement. 

FROM  the  consideration  of  our  being  in  a  probation-state, 
of  &~,  much  difficulty  and  hazard,  naturally  arises  the  ques- 
tion, how  we  came  to  be  placed  in  it  ?  But  such  a  general 
inquiry  as  this  would  be  found  involved  in  insuperable  diffi- 
culties. For,  though  some  of  these  difficulties  would  be 
lessened  by  observing,  that  all  wickedness,  is  voluntary,  as 
is  implied  in  its  very  notion,  and  that  many  of  the  miseries  of 
life  have  apparent  good  effects,  yet  when  we  consider  other 
circumstances  belonging  to  both,  and  what  must  be  the  con- 
sequence of  the  former  in  a  life  to  come,  it  cannot  but  be 
acknowledged  plain  folly  and  presumption,  to  pretend  to 
give  an  account  of  the  whole  reasons  of  this  matter ;  the 
whole  reasons  of  our  being  alloted  a  condition,  out  of  which 
so  much  wickedness  and  misery,  so  circumstanced,  would 
in  fact  arise.  Whether  it  be  not  beyond  our  faculties, 
not  only  to  find  out,  but  even  to  understand,  the  whole  ac- 
count of  this  ;  or,  though  we  should  be  supposed  capable  of 
understanding  it,  yet,  whether  it  would  be  of  service  or  pre- 
judice to  us  to  be  informed  of  it,  is  impossible  to  say.  But 
as  our  present  condition  can  in  no  wise  be  shown  inconsis- 
tent with  the  perfect  moral  government  of  God  ;  so  reli- 
gion teaches  us  we  are  placed  in  it,  that  we  might  qualify 
ourselves,  by  the  practice  of  virtue,  for  another  state,  which 
is  to  follow  it.  And  this,  though  but  a  partial  answer,  a 
very  partial  one  indeed,  to  the  inquiry  now  mentioned,  yet 
is  a  more  satisfactory  answer  to  another,  which  is  of  real, 
and  of  the  utmost  importance  to  us  to  have  answered — the 
inquiry,  What  is  our  business  here  ?  The  known  end,  then, 
why  we  are  placed  in  a  state  of  so  rnuch  affliction,  hazard, 
7* 


92  OF    A    STATE    OP  [_FART  I. 

and  difficulty,  is,  our  improvement  in  virtue  and  piety,  aa 
the  requisite  qualification  for  a  future  state  of  security  and 
happiness. 

Now,  the  beginning  of  life,  considered  as  an  education  for 
mature  age  in  the  present  world,  appears  plainly,  at  first 
sight,  analogous  to  this  our  trial  for  a  future  one  ;  the  for- 
mer being,  in  our  temporal  capacity,  what  the  latter  is  in 
our  religious  capacity.  But  some  observations  common  to 
both  of  them,  and  a  more  distinct  consideration  of  each,  will 
more  distinctly  show  the  extent  and  force  of  the  analogy  be- 
tween them  ;  and  the  credibility,  which  arises  from  hence, 
as  well  as  from  the  nature  of  the  thing,  that  the  present 
life  was  intended  to  be  a  state  of  discipline  for  a  future  one. 

I.  Every  species  of  creature  is,  we  see,  designed  for  a 
particular  way  of  life,  to  which  the  nature,  the  capacities, 
temper,  and  qualifications  of  each  species,  are  as  necessary 
as  their  external  circumstances.     Both  come  into  the  no- 
tion of  such  state,  or  particular  way  of  life,  and  are  constitu 
ent  parts  of  it.     Change  a  man's  capacities  or  character  to 
the  degree  in  which  it  is  conceivable  they  may  be  changed, 
and  he  would  be  altogether  incapable  of  a  human  course  of 
life  and  human  happiness;  as  incapable,  as  if,  his  nature  con- 
tinuing unchanged,  he  were  placed  in  a  world  where  he 
had  no  sphere  of  action,  nor  any  objects  to  answer  his  appe- 
tites, passions,  and  affections  of  any  sort.     One  thing  is  set 
over  against  another,  as  an  ancient  writer  expresses  it.    Our 
nature  corresponds  to  our  external  condition.     Without  this 
correspondence,  there  would  be  no  possibility  of  any  such 
thing  as  human  life  and  human  happiness  ;  which  life  and 
happiness  are,  therefore,  a  result  from  our  nature  and  condi- 
tion jointly  ;  meaning  by  human  life,  not  living  in  the  liter- 
al sense,  but  the  whole  complex  notion  commonly  under- 
stood by  those  words.     So  that,  without  determining  what 
will    be    the    employment  and  happiness,  the  particular 
life  of  good  men  hereafter,  there  must  be  some  determinate 
capacities,   some  necessary    character  and   qualifications, 
without  which  persons  cannot  but  be  utterly  incapable  of  it ; 
in  like  manner  as  there  must  be  some,  without  which  mcc 
would  be  incapable  of  their  present  state  of  life.     Now, 

II.  The  constitution  of  human  creatures,  and  indeed  of 
all  creatures  which  come  under  our  notice,  is  such,  as  that 
they  are  capable  of  naturally  becoming  qualified  for  states 
of  life,  for  which  they  were  once  wholly  unqualified.     In 
imagination  we  may  indeed  conceive  of  creatures,  as  inca* 


CIIAF.  V.]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  93 

pable  of  having  any  of  their  faculties  naturally  enlarged,  or 
as  being  unable  naturally  to  acquire  any  new  qualifications ; 
but  the  faculties  of  every  species  known  to  us  are  made  for 
enlargement,  for  acquirements  of  experience  and  liabitg. 
We  find  ourselves,  in  particular,  endued  with  capacities,  no*, 
only  of  perceiving  ideas,  and  of  knowledge  or  perceiving 
truth,  but  also  of  storing  up  our  ideas  and  knowledge  by 
memory.  We  are  capable,  not  only  of  acting,  and  of  hav- 
ing different  momentary  impressions  made  upon  us,  but  of 
getting  a  new  facility  in  any  kind  of  action,  and  of  settled 
alterations  in  our  temper  or  character.  The  power  of  the 
two  last  is  the  power  of  habits.  But  neither  the  perception 
of  ideas,  nor  knowledge  of  any  sort,  are  habits,  though  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  the  forming  of  them.  However,  ap- 
prehension, reason,  memory,  which  are  the  capacities  of 
acquiring  knowledge,  are  greatly  improved  by  exercise. 
Whether  the  word  habit  is  applicable  to  all  these  improve- 
ments, and,  in  particular,  how  far  the  powers  of  memory  and 
of  habits  may  be  powers  of  the  same  nature,  I  shall  not  in- 
quire. But  that  perceptions  come  into  our  minds  readily 
and  of  course,  by  means  of  their  having  been  there  before, 
seems  a  thing  of  the  same  sort,  as  readiness  in  any  particu- 
lar kind  of  action,  proceeding  from  being  accustomed  to  it. 
And  aptness  to  recollect  practical  observations  of  service  in 
our  conduct,  is  plainly  habit  in  many  cases.  There  are 
habits  of  perception  and  habits  of  action.  An  instance 
of  the  former,  is  our  constant  and  even  involuntary  readi- 
ness in  correcting  the  impressions  of  our  sight  concerning 
magnitudes  and  distances,  so  as  to  substitute  judgment  in 
the  room  of  sensation,  imperceptibly  to  ourselves.  And  it 
seems  as  if  all  other  associations  of  ideas,  not  naturally  con- 
nected, might  be  called  passive  habits,  as  properly  as  our 
readiness  in  understanding  languages  upon  sight,  or  hearing 
of  words.  And  our  readiness  in  speaking  and  writing  them 
b  an  instance  of  the  latter,  of  active  habits.  For  distinct- 
ness, we  may  consider  habits  as  belonging  to  the  body, 
or  the  mind,  and  the  latter  will  be  explained  by  the  former. 
Under  the 'former  are  comprehended  all  bodily  activities  or 
motions,  whether  graceful  or  unbecoming,  which  are  owing 
to  use ;  under  the  latter,  general  habits  of  life  and  conduct, 
such  as  those  of  obedience  and  submission  to  authority,  or 
to  any  particular  person  ;  those  of  veracity,  justice,  and 
fihurity  j  those  of  attention,  industry,  self-government,  envy, 
revenge  And  habits  of  this  latter  land  seem  produced  fry 


J4  OF    A    STATE    OF  [PART  I 

repeated  acts,  as  well  as  the  former.  And  in  like  rr.annei 
as  habits  belonging  to  the  body  are  produced  by  externa. 
acts,  so  habits  of  the  mind  are  produced  by  the  exertions  of 
inward  practical  principles  ;  i.  e.  by  carrying  them  into  act. 
or  acting  upon  them,  the  principles  of  obedience,  of  veraci- 
ty, justice,  and  charity.  Nor  can  those  habits  be  formed  by 
any  external  course  of  action,  otherwise  than  as  it  proceeds 
from  these  principles  ;  because  it  is  only  these  inward  princi- 
ples exerted,  which  are  strictly  acts  of  obedience,  of  veracity, 
of  justice,  and  of  charity.  So,  likewise,  habits  of  attention,  in- 
dustry, self-government,  are,  in  the  same  manner,  acquired 
by  exercise  ;  and  habits  of  envy  and  revenge  by  indulgence 
whether  in  outward  act  or  in  thought  and  intention  i.  e.  in 
ward  act ;  for  such  intention  is  an  act.  Resolutions  to 
do  well  are  properly  acts:  and  endeavouring  to  enforce 
upon  our  own  minds  a  practical  sense  of  virtue,  or  to  beget  in 
others  that  practical  sense  of  it  which  a  man  really  has 
himself,  is  a  virtuous  act.  All  these,  therefore,  may  and  will 
contribute  towards  forming  good  habits.  But,  going  over 
the  theory  of  virtue  in  one's  thoughts,  talking  well,  and  draw- 
ing fine  pictures  of  it,  this  is  so  far  from  necessarily  or  cer- 
tainly conducing  to  form  a  habit  of  it  in  him  who  thus  em- 
ploys himself,  that  it  may  harden  the  mind  in  a  contrary 
course,  and  render  it  gradually  more  insensible,  i.  e.  form 
a  habit  of  insensibility  to  all  moral  considerations.  For, 
from  our  very  faculty  of  habits,  passive  impressions,  by  being 
repeated,  grow  weaker.  Thoughts,  by  often  passing  through 
the  mind,  are  felt  less  sensibly  ;  being  accustomed  to  danger, 
Degets  intrepidity,  i.  e.  lessens  fear ;  to  distress,  lessens  the 
passion  of  pity  ;  to  instances  of  others'  mortality,  lessens 
the  sensible  apprehension  of  our  own.  And  from  these  two 
observations  together,  that  practical  habits  are  formed  and 
strengthened  by  repeated  acts,  and  that  passive  impressions 
grow  weaker  by  being  repeated  upon  us,  it  must  follow, 
that  active  habits  may  be  gradually  forming  and  strength- 
ening, by  a  course  of  acting  upon  such  and  such  motives 
and  excitements,  whilst  these  motives  and  excitements, 
themselves  are,  by  proportionable  degrees,  growing  less  sen- 
sible j  i.  e.  are  continually  less  and  less  sensibly  felt,  even 
as  the  active  habits  strengthen.  And  experience  confirms 
this ;  for  active  principles,  at  the  very  time  that  they  are 
less  lively  in  perception  than  they  were,  are  f(  und  to  be 
some  how  wrought  more  thoroughly  into  the  temper  and 
character,  and  beeomp  more  effectual  in  influencing  our 


CHAP.  V.]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  ?5 

practice.  The  three  things  just  mentioned  may  afford  in- 
stances of  it.  Perception  of  clanger  is  a  natural  excitement 
of  passive  fear,  and  active  caution  ;  and,  by  being  inured  to 
danger,  habits  cf  the  latter  are  gradually  wrought,  at  tne 
game  time  that,  the  former  gradually  lessens.  Perception 
of  distress  in  others  is  a  natural  excitement,  passively  to 
pity,  and  actively  to  relieve  it ;  but  let  a  man  set  himself  to 
attend  to,  inquire  out,  and  relieve  distressed  persons,  and  he 
cannot  but  grow  less  and  less  sensibly  affected  with  the  va- 
ricus  miseries  of  life,  with  which  he  must  become  acquain- 
ted ;  when  yet,  at  the  same  time,  benevolence,  considered 
not  as  a  passion,  but  as  a  practical  principal  of  action,  will 
strengthen;  and,  whilst  he  passively  compassionates  the 
distressed  less,  he  will  acquire  a  greater  aptitude  actively  to 
assist  and  befriend  them.  So  also  at  the  same  time  that  the 
daily  instances  of  men's  dying  around  us  give  us  diiily  a 
less  sensible  passive  feeling  or  apprehension  cf  our  own 
mortality,  such  instances  greatly  contribute  to  the  strenyih- 
eninfr  a  practical  regard  to  it  in  serious  men  ;  i.  e.  to  forminjr 
a  habit  of  acting  with  a  constant  view  to  it.  And  this 
seems  again  further  to  show,  that  passive  impressions  made 
upon  our  minds  by  admonition,  experience,  example,  though 
they  may  have  a  remote  efficacy,  and  a  very  great  one,  to- 
wards forming  active  habits,  yet  can  have  this  efficacy  no 
otherwise  than  by  inducing  us  to  such  a  course  of  action  j 
and  that  it  is,  not  being  affected  so  and  so,  but  acting,  winch 
forms  those  habits ;  only  it  must  be  always  remembered, 
that  real  endeavours  to  enforce  good  impressions  upon  our- 
selves, are  a  species  of  virtuous  action.  Nor  do  we  know 
how  far  it  is  possible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  effects 
should  be  wrought  in  us  at  once  equivalent  to  lu'bits,  i.  c. 
\\  hat  is  wrought  by  use  and  exercise.  However,  the  thing 
insisted  upon  is,  not  what  may  be  possible,  but  what  is  in  fact 
the  appointment  of  nature,  which  is,  that  active  habits  are 
to  be  formed  by  exercise.  Their  progress  may  be  so  gradu- 
al as  to  be  imperceptible  of  its  steps  ;  it  may  be  hard  to  ex- 
plain the  faculty  by  which  we  are  capable  of  habits,  through- 
out '"s  several  parts,  and  to  trace  it  up  to  its  original,  so  as 
to  distinguish  it  from  all  others  in  our  mind  j  and  it  seems  as 
if  contrary  effects  were  to  be  ascribed  to  it.  But  the  thing 
in  general,  that  our  nature  is  formed  to  yield,  in  sorr.c  such 
manner  as  this,  to  use  and  exercise,  is  matter  of  certain  ex- 
perience, 
Thus,  by  accustoming  ourselves  to  any  course  of  action 


06  OF    A    STATE    OF  |_PART  1 

we  pet  an  aptness  to  go  on,  a  facility,  readiness,  and  oiter. 
pleasure  in  it.  The  inclinations  which  rendered  us  averse 
to  it  grow  weaker ;  the  difficulties  in  it,  not  only  the  im- 
aginary, but  the  real  ones,  lessen  ;  the  reasons  for  it  offer 
themselves  of  course  to  our  thoughts  upon  all  occasions ; 
and  the  least  glimpse  of  them  is  sufficient  to  make  us  go 
on  in  a  course  of  action  to  which  we  have  been  accustomed 
And  practical  principles  appear  to  grow  stronger  absolutely 
in  themselves,  by  exercise,  as  well  as  relatively,  with  regard 
to  contrary  principles  ;  which,  by  being  accustomed  to  sub- 
mit, do  so  habitually,  and  of  course.  And  thus  a  new  cha- 
racter, in  several  respects,  may  be  formed  ;  and  many  habi- 
tudes of  life,  not  given  by  nature,  but  which  nature  direcf.s 
us  to  acquire. 

III.  Indeed  we  may  be  assured,  that  we  should  never  have 
had  these  capacities  of  improving  by  experience,  acquired 
knowledge  and  habits,  had  they  not  been  necessary,  and  in- 
tended to  be  made  use  of  And,  accordingly,  we  rind  them 
so  necessary,  and  so  much  intended,  that  without  them  we 
should  be  utterly  incapable  of  that  which  was  the  end,  for 
which  we  were  made,  considered  in  our  temporal  capacity 
only  ;  the  employments  and  satisfactions  of  our  mature 
state  of  life. 

Nature  does  in  no  wise  qualify  us  wholly,  much  less  at 
once,  for  this  mature  state  of  life.  Even  maturity  of  under- 
standing and  bodily  strength  are  not  only  a'rrived  to  gradu- 
ally, but  are  also  very  much  owing  to  the  continued  exer- 
cise of  our  powers  of  body  and  mind  from  infancy.  But  if 
we  suppose  a  person  brought  into  the  world  with  both  these 
in  maturity,  as  far  as  this  is  conceivable,  he  would  plainly 
at  first  be  as  unqualified  for  the  human  life  of  mature  age,  afi 
on  idiot.  He  would  be  in  a  manner  distracted  with  aston 
ishrnent,  and  apprehension,  and  curiosity,  and  suspense  ; 
nor  can  one  guess  how  long  it  would  be  before  he  would  be 
familiarized  to  himself,  and  the  objects  about  him,  enough 
evan  to  set  himself  to  any  thing.  It  may  be  questioned 
too,  whether  the  natural  information  of  his  sight  and  hear- 
ing would  be  of  any  manner  of  use  at  all  to  him  in  acting, 
before  experience.  And  it  seems  that  men  would  be  strange- 
y  headstrong  and  self-willed,  and  disposed  to  exert  them- 
solves  with  an  impetuosity  which  would  render  society  in- 
supportable, and  the  living  in  it  impracticable,  were  it  not 
for  some  acquired  moderation  and  self-government,  some 
aptitude  and  readiness  in  restraining  themselves,  and  COT> 


CHAP.    V/J  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  97 

cealing  their  sense  of  things.  Want  of  every  'ihing  of  thia 
kind  which  is  learned,  would  render  a  man  as  incapable  of 
society  as  want  of  language  would  jj  or  as  his  natural 
ignorance  of  any  of  the  particular  employments  of  life,  would 
renrler  him  incapable  of  providing  himself  with  the  com- 
mon cor.veniences  or  supplying  the  necessary  wants  of  it. 
J&  tfcnse  respects,  and  probably  in  many  more,  of  which  we 
have  no  particular  notion,  mankind  is  left  by.  nature  an  un- 
formed, unfinished  creature,  utterly  deficient  and  unqualified, 
before  the  acquirement  of  knowledge,  expenence,  and 
habits,  for  that  mature  state  of  life,  which  was  the  end  of 
his  creation,  considering  him  as  related  only  to  this  world. 

But  then,  as  nature  has  endued  us  with  a  power  of  sup- 
plying those  deficiencies,  by  acquired  knowledge,  experi- 
ence, c.nd  habits  ;  so,  likewise,  we  are  placed  in  a  condition, 
in  infancy,  childhood,  and  youth,  fitted  for  it ;  fitted  for  our 
acquiring  those  qualifications  of  all  sorts,  which  we  stand 
in  need  of  in  mature  age.  Hence  children,  from  their  very 
birth,  are  daily  growing  acquainted  with  the  objects  about 
them,  with  the  scene  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  to  have 
a  future  part ;  and  learning  somewhat  or  other,  necessary 
to  the  performance  of  it.  The  subordinations,  to  which 

»icy  are  accustomed  in  domestic  life,  teach  them  self-gov- 
ernment in  common  behaviour  abroad,  and  prepare  them  for 
subjection  and  obedience  to  civil  authority.  What  passes 
before  their  eyes,  and  daily  happens  to  them,  gives  them  ex- 
perience, caution  against  treachery  and  deceit,  together  with 
numberless  little  rules  of  action  and  conduct,  which  we  could 
not  live  without,  and  which  are  learned  so  insensibly  and  so 
perfectly,  as  to  be  mistaken  perhaps  for  instinct ;  though  they 
are  the  effect  of  long  experience  and  exercise  :  as  much  so  as 
language,  or  knowledge  in  particular  business,  or  the  qualin 
cations  and  behaviour  belonging  to  the  several  ranks  and  pro- 
fessions. Thus,  the  beginning  of  our  days  is  adapted  to  be, 
and  is,  a  state  of  education  in  the  theory  and  practice  of 
mature  life.  We  are  much  assisted  in  it  by  example,  in- 
struction, and  the  care  of  others  ;  but  a  great  deal  is  left  to 
ourselves  to  do.  And  of  this,  as  part  is  done  easily  and  of 
course,  so  part  requires  diligence  and  care,  the  voluntary 
foregoing  many  things  which  we  desire,  and  setting  our- 
selves to  what,  we  should  have  no  inclination  to,  buffer  the 
necessity  or  c-xpedienci;  of  it.  For  that  labor  and  industry 
1  ?hich  the  station  of  so  many  absolutely  requires,  they  would 

ie  greatly  unqualified  for  in  maturity,  us  those  in  other  sta- 
5 


98  OF    A    STATE    OP  [PART 

tions  would  be  for  any  other  sorts  of  application,  if  both  were 
riot  accustomed  to  them  in  their  youth.  And  according  as 
persons  behave  themselves,  in  the  general  education  which 
all  go  through,  and  in  the  particular  ones  adapted  to  parti- 
cnlar  employments,  their  character  is  formed,  an  1  made  ap- 
pear :  they  recommend  themselves  more  or  less;  and  are 
capable  of,  and  placed  in,  different  stations  in  the  society  of 
n  unkind.  >  •*.. vri 

The  former  part  of  life,  then,  is  to  be  considered  as  an  im- 
portant, opportunity,  which  nature  puts  into  our  hands,  and 
which,  wh.en  lost,  is  not  to  be  recovered.  And  our  being 
placed  in  a  stato  of  discipline  throughout  this  life,  for  another 
world,  is  a  providential  disposition  of  things,  exactly  of  the 
s:une  kind  as  our  being  placed  in  a  state  of  discipline  during 
chili  Ihood,  for  mature  age.  Our  condition  in  both  respects 
is  uniform  and  of  a  piece,  and  comprehended  under  one  and 
the  same  general  law  of  nature. 

And  if  we  are  not  able  at  all  to  discern,  how  or  in  what; 
wav  the  present  life  could  be  our  preparation  for  another, 
thi-s  would  be  no  objection  against  the  credibility  of  its  being 
so.  For  we  do  not  discern  how  food  and  sleep  contribute 
to  the  growth  of  the  body,  nor  could  have  any  thought  that 
they  would,  before  we  had  experience.  Nor  do  children  at 
all  think,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  sports  and  exercises,  to 
which  they  are  so  much  addicted,  contribute  to  their  healtb 
and  irrowth  ;  nor,  on  the  other,  of  the  necessity  which  theic 
is  for  their  being  restrained  in  them  ;  nor  are  they  capable 
of  understanding  the  use  of  many  parts  of  discipline,  which 
nevertheless  they  must  be  made  to  go  through,  in  order  to 
qualify  them  for  the  business  of  mature  age.  Were  we  not 
able,  then,  to  discover  in  what  respect  the  present  life  could 
form  us  for  a  future  one,  yet  nothing  would  be  more  sup- 
posible  than  that  it  might,  in  some  respects  or  other,  from  the 
general  analogy  of  Providence.  And  this,  for  aught  I  see, 
might  reasonably  be  said,  even  though  we  should  not  take 
in  the  consideration  of  God's  moral  government  o/er  the 
world.  But, 

IV.  Take  in  this  consideration,  and  consequently,  that 
the  character  of  virtue  and  piety  is  a  necessary  qualification 
for  the  future  state,  and  then  we  may  distinctly  see  how, 
niul  in  what  respects,  the  present  life  may  be  a  preparation  for 
it ;  since  we  want,  and  arc  capable  of  improvement  in  (hat  char' 
acter,  by  moral  and  religious  habits  ;  and  the  present  life  is  Jit 
(o  be  a  state  of  discipline  for  such  improvement ;  in  like  manner, 


CHAP.    V  ]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  99 

as  u-e  have  already  observed,  how,  and  in  what  respects, 
infancy,  childhood,  and  youth,  are  a  necessaiy  preparation, 
and  a  natural  state  of  discipline,  for  mature  aye. 

Nothing  which  we  at  present  see  would  lead  us  to  the 
thought  of  a  solitary  inactive  state  hereafter,  but,  if  we  ludge 
at  all  from  the  analogy  of  nature,  we  must  suppose,  accord- 
ing to  the  Scripture  account  of  i*,  that  it  will  be  a  communi- 
ty. And  there  is  no  shadow  of  any  thing  unreasonable  in 
conceiving,  though  there  be  no  analog}'  for  it,  that  this  com- 
mxinity  will  be,  as  the  Scripture  represents  it,  under  the 
more  immediate,  or,  if  such  an  expression  may  be  used,  the 
more  sensible  government  of  God.  Nor  is  our  ignorance, 
what  will  be  the  employ aients  of  this  happy  community, 
nor  our  consequent  ignorance,  whal  lenticular  scope  or  oc- 
casion there  will  be  for  thi;  jxerci?jrf  of  veracity  justice,  and 
charity,  amongst  the  meiui*'ft*  dt  it  with  regar'i  to  each 
other,  any  proof  that  thei^  v/iL  be  no  sphere  of  exevcise  for 
those  virtues.  Much  less,  n  that  were  possible,  is  our  igno- 
rance any  proof  that  then.'  vvill  be  no  occasion  for  that  frpine 
of  mind,  or  character,  which  is  formed  by  the  daily  practice 
of  those  particular  virtues  here,  and  which  is  a  result  froip 
it.  This  at  least  must  be  owned  in  general,  that  as  the  go 
vernment  established  in  the  universe  is  moral,  the  charactei 
of  virtue  and  piety  must,  in  some  way  or  other,  be  the  con 
dition  of  our  happiness,  or  the  qualification  for  it. 

Now,  from  what  is  above  observed  concerning  our  natu- 
ral power  of  habits,  it  is  easy  to  see,  that  we  are  capable  of 
moral  improvement  by  discipline.  And  how  greatly  we 
want  it,  need  not  be  proved  to  any  one  who  is  acquainted 
with  the  great  wickedness  of  mankind,  or  even  with  those 
imperfections  which  the  best  are  conscious  of.  But  it  is  not 
perhaps  distinctly  attended  to  by  every  one,  that  the  occa- 
fijons  which  human  creatures  have  for  discipline,  to  improve 
in  them  this  character  of  virtue  and  piety,  is  to  be  traced  up 
higher  than  to  excess  in  the  passions,  by  indulgence  and 
iiabits  of  vice.  Mankind,  and  perhaps  all  finite  creatures, 
fcom  the  very  constitution  of  their  nature,  before  habits  of 
virtue,  are  deficient,  and  in  danger  of  deviating  from  what  is 
right,  and  therefore  stand  in  need  of  virtuous  habits  for  a  se- 
curity against  this  danger.  For,  toge'.her  with  ihe  general 
principal  of  moral  understanding,  we  have  in  our  inward 
frame  various  affections  towards  particular  external  objects. 
These  affections  are  naturally,  and  of  right,  subject  to  the 
government  of  the  moral  princiole,  as  to  thi  occasions  upon 


100  OF    A    STATE    OF  [PART  1 

which  hey  may  be  gratified,  as  to  the  timea,  degrees,  and 
Oianner,  in  which  the  objects  of  them  may  be  pursued  ;  but 
then  the  principle  of  virtue  can  neither  excite  them,  nor  pre- 
vent their  being  excited.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  natu- 
rally felt,  when  the  objects  of  them  are  present  to  the  mind, 
not  only  before  all  consideration  whether  they  can  be  ob- 
tained by  lawful  means,  but  after  it  is  found  they  cannot. 
For  the  natural  objects  of  affection  continue  so  ;  the  neces- 
saries, conveniences,  and  pleasures  of  life,  remain  naturally 
desirable,  though  they  cannot  be  obtained  innocently  ;  nay, 
though  they  cannot  possibly  be  obtained  at  all.  And  when 
the  objects  of  any  affection  whatever  cannot  be  obtained 
without  unlawful  means,  but  may  be  obtained  by  them,  such 
affection,  though  its  being  excited,  and  its  continuing  some 
time  in  the  mind,  be  as  innocent  as  it  is  natural  and  necessa- 
ry, yet  cannot  but  be  conceived  to  have  a  tendency  to  in- 
cline persons  to  venture  upon  such  unlawful  means,  and 
therefore  must  be  conceived  as  putting  them  in  some  danger 
of  it.  Now,  what  is  the  general  security  against  this  dan- 
ger, against  their  actually  deviating  from  right?  as  the 
danger  is,  so  also  must  the  security  be,  from  within,  from  the 
practical  principle  of  virtue.*  And  the  strengthening  or 
improving  this  principle,  considered  as  practical,  or  as  a 
principle  of  action,  will  lessen  the  danger  or  increase  the  se- 
curity against  it.  And  this  moral  principle  is  capable  of 
improvement,  by  proper  discipline  and  exercise  ;  by  recol 
lecting  the  practical  impressions  which  example  and  expe- 
rience have  made  upon  us  ;  and,  instead  of  following  humor 
and  mere  inclination,  by  continually  attending  to  the  equity 
and  right  of  the  case,  in  whatever  we  are  engaged,  be  it  in 

*  It  may  be  thought  that  a  sense  of  interest  v.-ould  as  effectually  restrain 
creatures  Vroin  doing  wrong.  But  if  by  a  senss  of  interest  is  meant,  a 
speculative  conviction  or  belief  that  such  and  suc.'\  indulgence  would  occa 
son  them  greater  uneasiness,  upon  the  whole,  than  satisfaction,  it  is  con- 
trary to  present  experience  to  say.  that  this  sense  jf  interest  is  sufficient  to 
restrain  them  from  thus  indulging  themselves.  And  if  by  a  ssnse  of  in- 
terest is  meant,  a  practical  regard  to  what  is  upon  the  whole  our  happi- 
ness, this  is  not  only  coincident  with  the  principle  of  virtue  or  moral  recti- 
tude, but  is  a  part  of  the  idea  itself.  And  it  is  evident  this  reasonable  self- 
love  wants  to  be  unproved,  as  really  as  any  principle  in  our  nature.  For 
we  daily  sec  it  overmatched,  not  only  by  the  more  boisterous  passions,  but 
by  curiofiity,  shame,  love  of  imitation,  by  any  thing,  even  indolence  :  espe- 
cially if  the  interest,  the  temporal  interest,  suppose,  which  is  the  end  of 
such  self-love,  be  at  a  distance.  So  greatly  are  profligate  men  mistaken, 
when  they  affirm  they  are  wholly  governed  by  interestedness  and  self-love 
And  so  little  cause  is  there  for  moralists  to  disclaim  tliia  principle. 


£UAP.    V.]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  10l 

greater  01  less  matters,  and  accustoming  ourselves  always 
lo  act  upcn  it,  as  being  itself  the  just  and  natural  motive  of 
action  ;  and  as  this  moral  course  of  behaviour  must  neces- 
sarily, under  divine  government,  be  our  final  interest.  Thus 
the  principle  of  virtue,  improved  into  a  habit,  of  which  improve- 
ment we  are  thus  capable,  will  plainly  be,  in  prcportion  to  the 
strength  of  it,  a  security  against  the  danger  which  finite  crea- 
tures are  in,  from  the  very  nature  of  propension,  or  particular 
affections.  This  way  of  putting  the  matter  supposes  parti- 
cular affections  to  remain  in  a  future  state,  which  it  is  scarce 
yossible  to  avoid  supposing.  And  if  they  do,  we  clearly 
see,  that  acquired  habits  of  virtue  and  self-government  may 
be  necessary  for  the  regulation  of  them.  However,  though 
we  were  not  distinctly  to  take  in  this  supposition,  but  to 
speak  only  in  general,  the  thing  really  comes  lo  the  same. 
For  habits  of  virtue,  thus  acquired  by  discipline,  are  improve- 
ment in  virtue  ;  and  improvement  in  virtue  must  be  advance- 
ment in  happiness,  if  the  government  of  the  universe  be  moral. 
From  these  things  we  may  observe,  and  it  will  farther 
show  this  our  natural  and  original  need  of  being  improved 
by  discipline,  how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  creatures,  made  up- 
right, fall ;  and  that  those  who  preserve  their  uprightness, 
by  so  doing,  raise  themselves  to  a  more  secure  state  of  vir 
tue.  To  say  that  the  former  is  accounted  for  by  the  nature 
of  liberty,  is  to  say  no  more  than  that  an  event's  actually 
happening  is  accounted  for  by  a  mere  possibility  of  its  hap- 
pening. But  it  seems  distinctly  conceiv  able  from  the  very 
nature  of  particular  affections  or  propensions.  For,  sup- 
pose creatures  intendsd  for  such  a  particular  state  of  life, 
for  which  such  propensions  were  necessary  ;  suppose  them 
endued  with  such  propensions,  together  with  moral  under- 
standing, as  well  including  a  practical  sense  of  virtue  as  a 
speculative  perception  of  it ;  and  that  all  these  several  prin- 
ciples, both  natural  and  moral,  forming  an  inward  constitu 
tion  of  mind,  were  in  the  most  exact  proportion  possible,  i.  e. 
in  a  proportion  the  most  exactly  adapted  to  their  intended 
state  of  life  ;  such  creatures  would  be  made  upright,  or  finite- 
ly perfect.  Now,  particular  propensions,  from  their  very 
nature,  must  be  felt,  the  objects  of  them  being  present,  though 
they  cannot  be  gratified  at  all,  or  not  wi'.h  the  allowance  of 
the  moral  principle.  But  if  they  can  be  gratified  without 
its  allowance,  or  by  contradicting  it,  then  they  must  be  con- 
ceived to  have  some  tendency,  in  how  low  a  degree  soever, 
yot  somo  tendency,  to  induce  persons  to  such  forbidden 


102  OF    A    STATE    OP  [PAP.T  I 

gratification.  This  tendency,  in  some  one  particular  pro- 
pension,  may  be  increased,  by  the  greater  frequency  of  oc- 
casions naturally  exciting  if,  than  of  occasions  exciting 
others.  The  least  voluntary  indulgence  in  forbidden  cir- 
cumstances, though  but  in  thought,  will  increase  this  wrong 
tendency,  and  may  increase  it  further,  till,  peculiar  conjec- 
tures perhaps  conspiring,  it  becomes  effect  ;  and  danger  o! 
deviating  from  right,  ends  in  actual  deviation  from  it ;  a  dan- 
ger necessarily  arising  from  the  very  nature  of  propension, 
and  which,  therefore,  could  not  have  been  prevented,  though 
it  might  have  been  escaped,  or  got  innocently  through.  Thp 
case  would  be,  as  if  we  wer*3.  to  suppose  a  straight  path 
manced  out  for  a  person,  in  which  such  a  degree  of  attention 
would  keep  him  steady- ;  but  if  he  would  not  attend  in  this 
degree,  any  one  of  a  thousand  objects  catching  his  eye,  might 
lead  him  out  of  it.  Now,  it  is  impossible  to  say,  how  much 
even  the  first  full  overt  act  of  irregularity  might  disorder  the 
inward  constitution,  unsettle  the  adjustments,  and  alter  the 
proportions  which  formed  it,  and  in  which  the  uprightness 
of  its  make  consisted.  But  repetition  of  irregularities  would 
produce  habits  :  and  thus  the  constitution  would  be  spoiled, 
and  creatures,  made  upright,  become  corrupt  and  depraved 
in  their  settled  character,  proportionably  to  their  repeated 
irregularities  in  occasional  acts.  But,  on  the  contrary,  these 
creatures  might  have  improved  and  raised  themselves  to  a 
higher  and  more  secure  state  of  virtue,  by  the  contrary  be- 
haviour, by  steadily  following  the  moral  principle,  supposed 
'jo  be  one  part  of  their  nature,  and  thus  notwithstanding  that 
unavoidable  danger  of  defection,  which  necessarilj1"  arose 
from  propension,  the  other  part  of  it.  For,  by  thus  preserv- 
ing their  integrity  for  some  time,  their  danger  would  lessen, 
since  propensions,  by  being  inured  to  submit,  would  do  it 
more  easily  and  of  course  ;  and  their  security  against  this 
lessening  danger  would  increase,  since  the  moral  principle 
would  gain  additional  strength  by  exercise  ;  both  which 
things  are  implied  in  the  notion  of  virtuous  habits.  Thus, 
then,  vicious  indulgence  is  not  only  criminal  in  itself,  but  also 
depraves  the  inward  constitution  and  character,  And  vir- 
tuous self-government  is  not  only  right  in  itself,  but  also  im- 
proves the  inward  constitution  or  character ;  and  may  im- 
prove it  to  such  a  degree,  that  though  we  should  suppose  it 
impossible  for  particular  affections  to  be  absolutely  coinci- 
dent with  the  moral  principle,  and  consequently  should  al- 
low that  such  creatures  as  havo  been  above  supposed  would 


CHAP.  V,]  MORAL    DISCIPLINE.  103 

for  ever  remain  defectible  ;  yet  their  danger  of  actually  de- 
viating from  rght  may  be  almost  infinitely  lessened,  anil 
the}'  fully  fortiiied  against  what  remain^  of  it  ;  if  ihut  may 
be.  called  danger,  against  which  there  is  an  adequate  dVeo 
tual  security.  But  still,  this  their  higher  perfection  icay 
continue  to  consist  in  habits  of  virtue  formed  in  a  slate  of 
discipline,  and  this  their  more  complete  security  remain  lo 
proceed  from  them.  And  thus  it  is  plainly  conceivable,  that 
cieatures  without  blemish,  as  they  came  out  of  the  hands 
of  God,  may  be  in  danger  of  going  wrong,  and  so  may  stm:d 
in  need  of  the  security  of  virtuous  habits,  additional  to  the 
moral  principle  wrought  into  their  natures  by  him.  That 
which  is  the  ground  of  their  danger,  or  their  want  of  securi- 
ty, may  be  considered  as  a  deficiency  in  them,  to  which  vir- 
f.uous  habits  are  the  natural  supply.  And  as  they  are  nat- 
urally capable  of  being  raised  and  improved  by  discipline,  it 
may  be  a  thing  fit  and  requisite,  that  they  should  be  placed 
in  circumstances  with  an  eye  to  it ;  in  circumstances  pecu- 
liarly fitted  to  be,  to  them,  a  state  of  discipline  for  their  im- 
provement in  virtue. 

But  how  much  more  strong  must  this  hold  with  respect  to 
those  who  have  corrupted  their  natures,  are  fallen  from  their 
original  rectitude,  and  whose  passions  are  become  excessive 
by  repeated  violations  of  their  inward  constitution  1  Up- 
right creatures  may  want  to  be  improved ;  depraved  crea- 
tures want  to  be  renewed.  Education  and  discipline,  which 
may  be  in  all  degrees  and  sorts  of  gentleness  and  of  severi- 
y,  is  expedient  for  those  ;  but  must  be  absolutely  necessary 
for  these.  For  these,  diciplme,  of  the  severer  sort  too,  and 
in  the  higher  degrees  of  it,  must  be  necessary,  in  order  to 
wear  out  vicious  habits  ;  to  recover  their  primitive  strength 
of  self-government,  which  indulgence  must  have  weakened ; 
to  repair,  as  well  as  raise  into  a  habit,  the  moral  principle,  in 
order  to  their  arriving  at  a  secure  state  of  virtuous  hoppiness. 

Now,  whoever  will  consider  the  thing  may  clearly  see, 
that  the  present  world  is.  peculiarly  fit  to  be  a  state  of  disci- 
pline for  this  purpose,  to  such  as  will  set  themselves  to  mend 
and  improve.  For,  the  various  temptations  with  which  we 
are  surrounded  ;  our  experience  of  the  deceits  of  wicked- 
ness ;  having'  been  in  many  instances  led  wrong  ourselves  j. 
the  great  viciousness  of  the  world  ;  the  infinite  disorders 
consequent  upon  it ;  our  being  made  acquainted  with  pain 
and  sorrow,  either  from  our  own  feeling  of  it,  or  from  the 
fight  of  it  in  others ;  these  things,  though  some  of  them  may 


104  OF    A    STATE    OF  [PART.  L 

indeed  produce  wrong  effects  upon  our  minds,  yet,  \vhen  du- 
ly reflected  upon,  have  all  of  them  a  direct  tendency  to  brinj> 
us  to  a  settled  moderation  and  reasonableness  of  temper ;  the 
contrary  both  to  thoughtless  levity,  and  also  to  that  unre 
strained  self-will,  and  violent  bent  to  follow  present  inclina 
tion,  which  may  be  observed  in  undisciplined  minds.  Such 
experience,  as  the  present  state  affords,  of  the  frailty  of  our 
nature,  of  the  boundless  extravagance  of  ungoverned  pas- 
sion, of  the  power  which  an  infinite  Being  has  over  us,  by 
the  various  capacities  of  misery  which  he  has  given  us  ;  in 
short,  that  kind  and  degree  of  experience  which  the  present 
state  affords  us,  that  the  constitution  of  nature  is  such  as  to 
admit  the  possibility,  the  danger,  and  the  actual  event,  of 
creatures  losing  their  innocence  and  happiness,  and  becom- 
ing vicious,  and  wretched  ;  hath  a  tendency  to  give  a  prac- 
tical sense  of  things  very  different  from  a  mere  speculative 
knowledge,  that  we  are  liable  to  vice,  and  capable  of  misery. 
And  who  knows,  whether  the  security  of  creatures  in  the 
highest  and  most  settled  state  of  perfection,  may  not,  in  part, 
arise  from  their  having  had  such  a  sense  of  things  as  this, 
formed,  and  habitually  fixed  within  them,  in  some  state  of 
probation?  And  passing  through  the  present  world  with 
that  moral  attention  which  is  necessary  to  the  acting  a  right 
part  in  it,  may  leave  everlasting  impressions  of  this  sort  up- 
on our  minds.  But  to  be  a  little  more  distinct :  allurements 
to  what  is  wrong  ;  difficulties  in  the  discharge  of  our  duty ; 
our  not  being  able  to  act  a  uniform  right  part  without  some 
thought  and  care  ;  and  the  opportunities  which  we  have,  or  • 
imagine  we  have,  of  avoiding  what  we  dislike,  or  obtaining 
what  we  desire,  by  unlawful  means,  when  we  either  cannot 
do  it  at  all,  or  at  least  not  so  easily,  by  lawful  ones  ;  these 
things,  i.  e.  the  snares  and  temptations  of  vice,  are  what  ren- 
der the  present  world  peculiarly  fit  to  be  a  state  of  discipline 
to  those  who  will  preserve  their  integrity  ;  because  they  ren- 
der being  upon  our  guard,  resolution,  and  the  denial  of  oui 
passions,  necessary  in  order  to  that  end.  And  the  exercise 
of  such  particular  recollection,  intention  of  mind,  and  self- 
government,  in  the  practice  of  virtue,  has,  from  the  make  of 
our  nature,  a  peculiar  tendency  to  form  habits  of  virtue,  as 
implying  not  only  a  real,  but  also  a  more  continued,  and  a 
more  intense  exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle  ;  or  a  more 
constant  and  a  stronger  effort  of  virtue  exerted  into  act 
Thus,  suppose  a  person  to  know  himself  to  be  in  particular 
danger,  for  some  time,  of  doing  any  thing  wrong,  which  yet 


CHAP.  V.]  MORAL   DISCIPLINE.  105 

he  fulJy  resolves  not  to  do,  continued  recollection,  and  keep- 
ing upon  his  guard,  in  order  to  make  good  his  resolution,  is 
a  continued  exerting  of  that  act  of  virtue  in  a  high  degree. 
which  need  have  been,  and  perhaps  would  have  been,  only 
instantaneous  and  weak,  had  the  temptation  been  so.  It  i* 
indeed  ridiculous  to  assert,  that  self-denial  is  essential  to  vir- 
tue and  piety  ;  but  it  would  have  been  nearer  the  truth, 
though  not  strictly  the  truth  itself,  to  have  said,  that  ii  is  es- 
sential to  discipline  and  improvement.  For,  though  actions 
materially  virtuous,  which  have  no  sort  of  difficulty,  but  are 
perfectly  agreeable  to  our  particular  inclinations,  may  possi- 
bly be  done  only  from  these  particular  inclinations,  and  so 
may  not  be  any  exercise  of  the  principle  of  virtue,  i.  e.  not 
be  virtuous  actions  at  all ;  yet,  on  the  contrary,  they,  may  be 
an  exercise  of  that  principle,  and,  when  they  are,  they  have 
a  tendency  to  form  and  fix  the  habit  of  virtue.  But  when 
the  exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle  is  more  continued,  of- 
tener  repeated,  and  more  intense,  as  it  must  be  in  circum- 
stances of  danger,  temptation,  and  difficulty,  of  any  kind 
and  in  any  degree,  this  tendency  is  increased  proportionably. 
and  a  more  confirmed  habit  is  the  consequence. 

This  undoubtedly  holds  to  a  certain  length,  but  how  far  it 
may  hold,  I  know.not.  Neither  our  intellectual  powers,  nor 
our  bodily  strength,  can  be  improved  beyond  such  a  degree  ; 
and  both  may  be  over-wrought.  Possibly  there  may  be 
somewhat  analogous  to  this,  with  respect  to  the  moral  char- 
acter ;  which  is  scarce  worth  considering.  And  I  mention 
.it  only,  lest  it  should  come  into  some  persons  thoughts,  not 
as  an  exception  to  the  foregoing  observations,  which  per- 
haps it  is,  but  as  a  confutation  of  them,  which  it  is  not. 
And  there  may  be  several  other  exceptions.  Observations 
of  this  kind  cannot  be  supposed  to  hold  minutely,  and  in 
every  case.  It  is  enough  that  they  hold  in  general.  And 
these  plainly  hold  so  fai,  as  that  from  them  may  be  seen  dis- 
tinctly, which  is  all  that  is  intended  by  them,  that  the  pre- 
C*.nt  world  is  peculiarly  Jit  to  be  a  slate  of  discipline  for  our  im- 
provement in  virtue  and  piety  ;  in  the  same  sense  as  some 
sciences,  by  requiring  and  engaging  the  attention,  not  to  be 
eure  of  such  persons  as  will  not.  but  of  such  as  will,  set 
themselves  to  them,  are  fit  to  form  the  mind  to  habits  of 
attention. 

Indeed,  the  present  state  is  so  far  from  proving,  in  event, 
a  discipline  of  virtue  to  the  generality  of  men,  that,  on  the 
contrary,  they  seem  to  make  it  a  discipline  of  vice.  And 


106  or  A  STATE  or  [PART  I, 

the  viciousness  of  the  world  is,  in  different  waj-s,  the  great 
temptation,  which  renders  it  a  state  of  virtuous  discipline,  in 
(he  degree  it  is,  to  good  men.  The  whole  end,  and  the 
whole  occasion  of  mankind  being  placed  in  such  a  slate  aa 
the  present,  is  not  pretended  to  be  accounted  for.  That 
which  appears  amidst  thu  general  corruption  is,  that  there 
are  some  persons,  who,  having  wiihin  them  the  principle  of 
amendment  and  recovery,  attend  to  and  follow  the  notices  of 
virtue  and  religion,  be  they  more  clear  or  more  obscure, 
which  are  afforded  them  ;  and  that  the  present  world  is,  not 
only  an  exercise  of  virtue  in  these  persons,  but  an  exercise 
of  it  in  ways  and  decrees  peculiarly  apt  to  improve  it;  apt 
to  improve  it,  in  some  respects,  even  beyond  what  would  be 
by  the  exercise  of  it  required  in  a  perfectly  virtuous  society, 
or  in  a  society  of  equally  imperfect  virtue  with  themselves. 
But  that  the  present  world  does  not  actually  become  a  state 
of  moral  discipline  to  many,  even  to  the  generality,  i.  e.  that 
they  do  not  improve  or  grow  better  in  it,  cannot  be  urged  as 
a  proof  that  it  was  not  intended  for  moral  discipline,  by  any 
who  at  all  observe  the  analogy  of  nature.  For  of  thi  nu- 
merous seeds  of  vegetables  and  bodies  of  animals,  which 
are  adapted  and  put  in  the  way,  to  improve  to  such  a  point 
or  state  of  natural  maturity  and  perfection,  we  do  not  sec 
perhaps  that  one  in  a  million  actually  does.  Far  the  great- 
est part  of  them  decay  before  they  are  improved  to  it,  and 
appear  to  be  absolutely  destroyed.  Yet  no  one,  who  does 
not  deny  all  final  causes,  will  deny,  that  those  seeds  and  bo- 
dies which  do  attain  to  that  point  of  maturity  and  perfection, t 
answer  the  end  for  which  they  were  really  designed  by  na- 
ture ;  and  therefore  that  nature  designed  them  for  surh  per- 
fection. And  I  cannot  forbear  adding,  though  it  is  not  to  the 
present  purpose,  that  the  appearance  of  such  an  amazing 
waste  in  nature,  with  respect  to  these  seeds  and  bodies,  by 
foreign  causes,  is  to  us  as  unaccountable,  as,  what  is  much 
tr.ore  terrible,  the  present  and  future  ruin  of  so  many  moral 
agents  by  themselves,  i.  e.  by  vice. 

"Against  this  whole  notion  of  moral  discipline  it  may  be 
objected,  in  another  way,  that  so  far  as  a  course  of  beha- 
viour, materially  virtuous,  proceeds  from  hope  and  fear,  so 
far  it  is  only  a  discipline  and  strengthening  of  self-love.  But 
doing  what  God  commands,  because  he  commands  it,  a 
obedience,  though  it  proceeds  from  hope  or  fear.  And  a 
course  of  such  obedience  will  form  habits  of  it ;  and  a  con- 
stant regard  to  veracity,  justice,  and  charity,  aaajr  form  dm 


CHAP.    V.]  MORAL    BISCIPMNE.  !.07 

tinct  habits  of  these  particular  virtues,  and  will  certainty 
form  hal'its  of  self-government,  and  of  denj'ing  our  inclina- 
lions,  whenever  veracity,  justice,  or  charity  requires  it.  Nor 
is  there  any  foundation  for  this  great  nicety,  with  which 
some  affect  to  distinguish  in  this  case,  in  order  to  depreciate 
all  religion  proceeding  from  hope  or  fear.  For  veracity,  jus- 
ticij,  and  charity,  regard  to  God's  authority,  and  to  our  o\vn 
chief  interest,  are  not  only  all  three  coincident,  but  each  of 
taem  is,  in  itself,  a  just  and  natural  motive  or  principle  of 
action.  And  he  who  begins  a  good  life  from  any  one  of 
them,  and  perseveres  in  it,  as  he  has  already  in  some  degree, 
BO  he  cannot  fail  of  becoming  more  and  more  of  that  cha- 
racter, which  is  correspondent  to  the  constitution  of  nature 
as  moral,  and  to  the  relation  which  God  stands  in  to  us  as 
moral  governor  of  it ;  nor,  consequently,  can  he  fail  of  ob- 
taining that  happiness,  which  this  constitution  and  relation 
necessarily  supposes  connected  with  that  character. 

These  several  observations,  concerning  the  active  princi- 
ple of  virtue  and  obedience  to  God's  commands,  are  applica- 
ble to  passive  submission  or  resignation  to  his  will ;  which 
is  another  essential  part  of  a  right  character,  connected  with 
the  former,  and  very  much  in  our  power  to  form  ourselves 
to.  It  may  be  imagined,  that  nothing  but  afflictions  can 
give  occasion  for  or  require  this  virtue  ;  that  it  can  have  no 
respect  to,  nor  he  any  way  necessary  to  qualify  for  a  state 
of  perfect  happiness ;  but  it  is  not  experience  which  can 
make  us  think  thus  :  Prosperity  itself,  whilst  any  thing  sup- 
posed desirable  is  not  ours,  begets  extravagant  and  unboun- 
ded thoughts.  Imagination  id  altogether  as  much  a  source 
of  discontent  as  any  thing  ia  our  external  condition.  It  is 
indeed  true,  that  there  can  be  no  scope  for  patience,  when 
sorrow  shall  be  no  more  ;  but  there  may  be  need  of  a  tern- 
per  of  mind,  which  shall  have  been  formed  by  patience. 
For,  though  self-love,  considered  merely  as  .'inactive  princi- 
ple leading  us  to  pursue  our  chief  interest,  cannot,  but  be 
uniformly  coincident  with  the  principle  of  obedience  to  God's 
CQinmands,  our  interest  being  rightly  understood  ;  because 
fuis  obedience,  and  the  pursuit  of  our  own  chief  interest, 
must  be,  in  every  case,  one  and  the  same  thing ;  yet  it  may 
be  qu  istioned,  whether  self-lore,  considered  merely  as  the 
desire  of  our  own  interest  or  happiness,  can,  from  its  nature, 
be  thus  absolute  and  uniformly  coincident  with  the  will  of 
God.  any  more  than  particular  affection  can  J  coincident  in 

8 


108  OF    A    STATE    OF  [VART  1. 

smch  sort,  as  not  to  be  liable  to  be  excited  upon  occasions, 
ftiirl  in  degrees,  impossible  to  be  gratified  consistently  with 
'.he  constitution  of  things,  or  the  divine  appointments.  So 
•hat  habits  of  resignation  ma}',  upon  this  account,  be  requi- 
site for  all  creatures ;  habits,  I  say,  which  signify  what  ia 
formed  by  use.  However,  in  general,  it  is  obvious,  thai 
bo:h  self  love  and  particular  affections  in  human  creatures, 
considered  only  as  passive  feelings,  distort  and  rend  the 
mind,  and  therefore  stand  in  need  of  discipline.  Now,  deni- 
al of  those  particular  affections,  in  a  rourse  of  active  virtue 
and  obedience  to  God's  will  has  a  tendency  to  moderate 
them,  and  seems  also  to  have  a  tendency  to  habituate  the 
mind  to  be  easy  and  satisfied  with  that  degree  of  happiness 
which  is  allot ed  to  us,  i.  e.  to  moderate  self  love.  But  the 
proper  discipline  for  resignation  is  affliction.  For  a  right 
behaviour  under  that  tri«I,  recollecting  ourselves  so  as  to 
consider  it  in  the  view  in  which  religion  teaches  us  to  consi- 
der it,  as  from  the  hand  of  God ;  receiving  it  as  what  he 
appoints,  or  thinks  proper  to  permit,  in  his  world  and  under 
his  government,  this  will  habituate  the  mind  to  a  dutiful 
submission  ;  and  such  submission,  together  with  the  active 
principle  of  obedience,  make  up  the  temper  and  character 
in  ua  which  answers  to  his  sovereignty,  and  which  absolute- 
ly belongs  to  the  condition  of  our  being,  as  dependent  crea; 
lures.  Nor  can  it  be  said,  that,  this  is  only  breaking  the 
mind  to  a  submission  to  mere  power,  for  mere  power  may 
be  accidental,  and  precarious,  and  usurped  ;  but  it  is  form- 
ing within  ourselves  the  temper  of  resignation  to  his  right- 
ful authorit}',  who  is,  by  nature,  supreme  over  all. 

Upon  the  whole,  such  a  character,  and  such  qualifica- 
tions, are  necessary  far  a  mature  state  of  life  in  the  present 
v.'orld,  as  nature  alone  does  in  no  wise  bestow,  but  has  put 
it  upon  us  in  great  part  to  acquire,  in  our  progress  from  one 
stage  of  life  to  another,  from  childhood  to  mature  age  ;  put 
it  upon  us  to  acquire  them,  by  giving  us  capacities  of  doing 
it  and  by  placing  us,  in  the  beginning  of  life,  in  a  condition 
fit  for  it.  And  this  is  a  general  analogy  to  our  condition  in 
the  present  world,  as  in  a  state  of  moral  discipline  for  anoth- 
er. It  is  in  vain,  then,  to  object  against  the  credibility  of 
the  present  life  being  intended  for  this  purpose,  that  all  the 
trouble  and  the  danger  unavoidably  accompanying  such 
discipline  might  have  been  saved  us,  by  our  being  made  a; 
once  the  creatures  and  the  characters  which  ive  tvcre  to  oe. 
ITbr  W6  experience^  that  what  we  tier*  to  *?i  was  to  be  vWo 


CHAP.    V.]  AORAL    DISCIPLINE.  109 

effect  of  u'hat  we  would  do  ;  and  that  the  general  conduct  of 
nature  is,  not  to  save  us  trouble  or  danger,  but  to  make  us 
capable  of  going  through  them,  and  to  put  it  upon  us  to  do 
so  Acquirements  of  our  own  experience  and  habits,  are 
the  natural  supply  to  our  deficiencies,  and  security  against 
our  dangers ;  since  it  is  as  plainly  natural  to  set  ourselves  to 
acquire  the  qualifications  as  the  external  things  which  we 
Bland  in  need  of.  In  particular,  it  is  as  plainly  a  general 
law  of  nature,  that  we  should,  with  regard  to  our  temporal 
interest,  form  and  cultivate  practical  principles  within  us, 
b}'  attention,  use,  and  discipline,  as  any  thing  whatever  is  a 
natural  law ;  chiefly  in  the  begining  of  life,  but  also  through 
out  the  whole  course  of  it.  And  the  alternative  is  left  to 
our  choice,  either  to  improve  ourselves  and  better  our  condi- 
tion, or,  m  default  of  such  improvement,  to  remain  deficient 
and  wretched.  It  is  therefore  perfectly  credible,  from  the 
antilogy  of  nature,  that  the  same  may  be  our  case,  with  re- 
spect to  the  happiness  of  a  future  state  and  the  qualifica- 
tions necessary  for  it. 

There  is  a  third  thing,  which  may  seem  implied  in  the 
present  world  being  a  state  of  probation,  that,  it  is  a  thea- 
tre of  action  for  the  manifestation  of  persons'  characters, 
with  respect  to  a  future  one ;  not,  to  be  sure,  to  an  all-know- 
ing Being,  but  to  his  creation,  or  part  of  it.  This  may, 
perhaps,  be  only  a  consequence  of  our  being  in  a  state  of 
probation  in  the  other  senses.  However,  it  is  not  impossi- 
ble that  men's  showing  and  making  manifest  what  is  in  their 
heart,  what  their  real  character  is,  may  have  respect  to  a 
future  life,  in  ways  and  manners  which  we  are  not  acquain- 
ted with  ;  particularly  it  may  be  a  means,  for  the  Author  of 
nature  does  not  appear  to  do  any  thing  without  means,  of 
their  being  disposed  of  suitably  to  their  characters,  and  of 
its  being  known  to  the  creation,  by  way  of  example,  that 
they  are  thus  disposed  of.  But  not  to  enter  upon  any  con- 
jectural account  of  this,  one  may  just  mention,  that  the 
manifestation  of  persons' characters  contributes  very  much* 
in  "arious  ways,  to  the  carrying  on  a  great  part  of  that  gene- 
ral course  of  nature  respecting  mankind,  which  comes  un- 
der our  observation  at  present.  I  shall  only  add.  that  pro- 
bation, in  both  these  senses,  as  well  as  in  that  treated  of  in 
the  foregoing  chapter,  is  implied  in  moral  government ; 
since  by  persons'  behaviour  under  it,  their  characters  cannot 
ljut  be  manifested,  and  if  they  behave  well,  improved. 


110  OF    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY.  |_PART  1 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Of  the  opinion  of  Necessity,  considered  as  influencing 
Practice. 

THROUGHOUT  the  foregoing  Treatise  it  appears,  that  the 
condition  of  mankind,  considered  as  inhabitants  of  this 
world  only,  and  under  the  government  of  God  which  we 
experience,  is  greatly  analogous  to  our  condition,  as  design- 
ed for  another  world,  or  under  that  farther  government  which 
religion  teaches  us.  If,  therefore,  any  assert,  as  a  fatalist 
must,  that  the  opinion  of  universal  necessity  is  reconcilable 
with  the  former,  there  immediately  arises  a  question  in  the 
way  of  analogy  ;  whether  he  must  not  also  own  it  to  be 
reconcilable  with  the  latter,  i.  e.  with  the  system  of  religion 
itself,  and  the  proof  of  it.  The  reader,  then,  will  observe, 
that  the  question  now  before  us,  is  not  absolute,  whether  the 
opinion  of  fate  be  reconcilable  with  religion  ;  but  hypotheti- 
cal, whether,  upon  supposition  of  its  being  reconcilable  with 
the  constitution  of  nature,  it  be  not  reconcilable  with  reli- 
gion also  ?  or,  what  pretence  a  fatalist, — not  other  persons, 
but  a  fatalist — has  to  conclude,  from  his  opinion,  that  there 
can  be  no  such  thing  as  religion  ?  And  as  the  puzzle  and 
obscurity,  which  must  unavoidably  arise  from  arguing  upon 
so  absurd  a  supposition  as  that  of  universal  necessity,  will, 
I  fear,  easily  be  seen,  it  will,  I  hope,  as  easily  be  excused. 
.  But  since  it  has  been  all  along  taken  for  granted,  as  a 
thing  proved,  that  there  is  an  intelligent  Author  of  nature, 
"or  natural  Governor  of  the  world  ;  and  since  an  objection 
may  be  made  against  the  proof  of  this,  from  the  opinion  of 
universal  necessity,  as  it  may  be  supposed  that  such  necessi- 
ty will  itself  account  for  the  origin  and  preservation  of  all 
things,  it  is  requisite  that  this  objection  be  distinctly  answer- 
ed; or  that  it  be  shown,  that  a  fatality,  supposed  consistent 
with  what  we  certainty  experience,  does  not  destroy  the 
proof  of  en  intelligent  Author  and  Governor  of  nature,  be- 


CHAP.  VI.]  AS    INFLUENCING    PRACTICE.  11] 

fore  we  proceed  to  consider,  whether  it  destroys  the  proof  of 
a  moral  Governor  of  it,  or  of  our  being  in  a  state  of 
religion. 

Now  when  it  is  said  by  a  fatalist,  that  the  whole  constitu- 
tion of  nature,  and  the  actions  of  men,  that  every  thing  and 
every  mode  and  circumstance  of  every  thing,  is  necessary, and 
could  not  possibly  have  been  otherwise,  it  is  to  be  observed, 
that  this  necessity  does  not  exc'ude  deliberation,  choice, 
preference,  and  acting  from  certain  principles,  and  to  certain 
ends ;  because  all  this  is  matter  of  undoubted  experience, 
acknowledged  by  all,  and  what  every  man  may,  every  mo- 
ment, be  conscious  of.  And  from  hence  it  follows,  that  ne- 
cessity, alone  and  of  itself,  is  in  no  sort  an  account  of  the 
constitution  of  nature,  and  how  things  carne  to  be  and  to  con- 
tinue as  they  are  ;  but  only  an  account  of  this  circumstance 
relating  to  their  origin  and  continuance,  that  they  could  not 
have  been  otherwise  than  they  are  and  have  been.  The  as- 
sertion, that  every  thing  is  by  necessity  of  nature,  is  not  an 
answer  to  the  question,  Whether  the  world  came  into  being 
as  it  is  by  an  intelligent  Agent  forming  it  thus,  or  not ;  but 
to  quite  another  question,  Whether  it  came  into  being  as  it 
is,  in  that  way  and  manner  which  we  call  necessarily,  or  in 
that  way  and  manner  which  we  call  freely.  For,  suppose 
farther,  that  one,  who  was  a  fatalist,  and  one,  who  kept  to 
his  natural  sense  of  things,  and  believed  himself  a  free  agent, 
were  disputing  together,  and  vindicating  their  respective 
opinions,  and  they  should  happen  to  instance  ,in  a  house, 
they  would  agree  that  it  was  built  by  an  architect.  Their 
difference  concerning  necessity  and  freedom,  would  occasion 
no  difference  of  judgment  concerning  this,  but  only  concern- 
ing another  matter,  whether  the  architect  built  it  necessarily 
or  freely.  Suppose,  then,  they  should  proceed  to  inquire, 
concerning  the  constitution  of  nature  ;  in  a  lax  way  of  speak- 
ing, one  of  them  might  sa.v,  it  was  by  necessity,  and  the 
other  bv  freedom  ;  but,  if  they  had  any  meaning  to  their 
words,  as  the  latter  must  mean  a  free  agent,  so  the  former 
must  at  length  be  reduced  to  mean  an  agent,  whether  he 
wDuld  say  one  or  more,  acting  by  necessity  ;  for  abstract  no- 
tions can  do  nothing.  Indeed,  we  ascribe  to  God  a  neces- 
sary existence,  uncaused  by  any  agent.  For  we  rind  with- 
in ou^elves  the  idea  of  infinity,  i.  e.  immensity  and  eternity, 
impossible,  even  in  imagination,  to  be  removed  out  of  being. 
We  seem  to  discern  intuitively,  that  there  must,  and  cannot 
but  be,  somewhat,  external  to  ourselves,  answering  this  idea- 


112  OP    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY,  [PART  1 

or  the  archetype  of  it.  And  from  hence  (for  it  is  abstract,  as 
much  as  any  other,  implies  a  concrete)  we  conclude,  that  there 
is,  and  cannot  but  be,  an  infinite  and  immense  eternal  Being 
existing  prior  to  all  design  contributing  »o  his  existence,  and 
exclusive  of  it.  And,  from  the  scantiness  of  language,  a 
manner  of  speaking  has  been  introduced,  that  necessity  ia 
the  foundation,  the  reason,  the  account  of  the  existence  o\ 
God.  But  it  is  not  alledged,  nor  can  it  be  at  all  intended, 
that  every  thing  exists  as  it  does  by  this  kind  of  necessity 
a  necessity  antecedent  in  nature  to  design  ;  it  cannot,  I  say 
be  meant,  that  every  thing  exists  as  it  does,  by  this  kind  of 
necessity,  upon  several  accounts  ;  and  particularly,  because 
it  is  admitted,  that  design  in  the  actions  of  men,  contribute! 
to  many  alterations  in  nature.  For,  if  any  deny  this,  I  shal 
not  pretend  to  reason  with  them. 

From  these  things  it  follows,  fast,  That  when  a  fatalis-'; 
asserts  that  every  thing  is  ly  necessity,  he  must  mean,  ly  a,i 
agent  acting  necessarily ;  he  must,  I  say,  mean  this  ;  for  J 
am  very  sensible  he  would  not  choose  to  mean  it.  And, 
secondly.  That  the  necessity,  by  which  such  an  agent  is  sup- 
posed to  act,  does  not  exclude  intelligence  and  design.  So 
that,  were  the  system  of  fatality  admitted,  it  would  just  as 
much  account  for  the  formation  of  the  world,  as  for  the  struc- 
ture of- a  house,  and  no  more.  Necessit}^  as  much  requires 
and  supposes  a  necessary  agent,  as  freedom  requires  and 
supposes  a  free  agent  to  be  the  former  of  the  world.  And 
the  appearance  of  design  and  of  final  causes  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  nature,  as  really  prove  this  acting  agent  to  be  an  in- 
telligent designer,  or  to  act  from  choice,  upon  the  scheme  of 
necessity,  supposed  possible,  as  upon  that  of  freedom. 

It  appearing  thus,  that  the  notion  of  necessity  does  not 
destroy  the  proof,  that  there  is  an  intelligent  Author  of  nature 
and  natural  Governor  of  the  world,  the  present  question  which 
the  analogy  before  mentioned  suggests,  and  which,  I  think, 
it  will  answer,  is  this  :  whether  the  opinion  of  necessity-, 
suppose  consistent  with  possibility,  with  the  constitution  oi 
tho  world,  and  the  natural  government  which  we  experi- 
ence exercised  over  it,  destroys  all  reasonable  ground  of  be- 
lief, thai  we  are  in  a  state  of  religion  ;  or  whether  that  opin- 
ion be  reconcilable  with  religion,  with  the  system  and  the 
proof  of  it.  ^ 

Suppose,  then,  a  fatalist  to  educate  any  one,  from  hii 


CHAP.    VI.'J  AS    INFLUENCING    PRACTICE.  113 

his  youth  up  in  his  own  principles  ;  that  the  child  should  rea- 
son upon  them,  and  conclude,  that  since  he  cannot  possibly 
behave  otherwise  than  he  does,  he  is  not  a  subject  of  blame 
or  commendation,  fior  can  deserve  to  be  rewarded  or  punish- 
ed: imagine  him  to  eradicate  the  very  perceptions  of  blame 
and  commendation  out  of  his  mind,  by  means  of  this  sj'stein  | 
to  form  his  temper,  and  character,  and  behaviour  to  it ;  and 
from  it  to  judge  of  the  treatment  he  was  to  expect,  say,  from 
Tasonable  men,  upon  his  coming  abroad  into  the  world,  as 
»Ke  fatalist  judges  from  this  system,  what  he  is  to  expect 
*rom  the  Author  of  nature,  and  wi;h  regard  to  a  future  state : 
(  cannot  forbear  stopping  here  to  ask,  whether  any  one  of 
common  sense  would  think  fir,  that  a  child  should  be  put 
upon  these  speculations,  and  be  lefc  to  applj'  them  to  prac- 
tice ?  and  a  man  has  little  pretence  to  reason,  who  is  not 
sensible  that  we  are  all  children  in  speculations  of  this  kind. 
However,  the  child  would  doubtless  be  highly  delighted  to 
find  himself  freed  from  the  restraints  of  fear  and  shame,  with 
which  his  play-fellows  were  fettered  and  embarrassed'  and 
highly  conceited  in  his  superior  knowledge,  so  far  beyond 
his  years.  But  conceit  and  vanity  would  be  the  least  bad 
part  of  the  influence  which  these  principles  must  have,  when 
thus  reasoned  and  acted  upon,  during  the  course  of  his  edu- 
cation. He  must  either  be  allowed  to  go  on,  and  be  the 
plague  of  all  about  him,  and  himself  too,  even  to  his  own 
destruction,  or  else  correction  must,  be  continually  made  use 
of,  to  supply  the  want  of  those  natural  perceptions  oi'  blame 
and  commendation,  which  we  have  supposed  to  be  removed, 
and  to  give  him  a  practical  impression  of  what  he  had  rea- 
soned himself  out  of  the  belief  of,  that  he  was,  in  fact,  an 
accountable  child,  and  to  be  p.unished  fordoing  what  he  was 
forbid.  It  is  therefore  in  reality  impossible,  but  that  the  cor- 
rection which  he  must  meet  with,  in  the  course  of  his  edu- 
cation, must  convince  him,  that  if  the  scheme  he  was  in- 
Btructed  in  were  not  false,  yet  that  he  reasoned  inconclusive- 
ly upon  it,  and,  somehow  or  other,  misapplied  it  to  practice 
and  common  life  ;  as  what  the  fatalist  experiences  of  the 
conduct,  of  Providence  at  present,  ought  in  all  reason,  to  con- 
vince nim,  that  this  scheme  is  misapplied,  when  applied  to 
the  subject  of  religion.  But,  supposing  the  child's  tem- 
per could  remain  still  formed  to  the  system,  and  his  expecta- 
tion of  i  bo  treatment  he  was  to  have  in  the  world  be  reguia- 


114  OF    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY,  [PAltT.  I 

ted  by  it,  so  as  to  expect  that  no  reasonable  man  would  blame 
or  punbh  him  for  any  thing  which  he  should  do,  because 
he  could  not  help  doing  it ;  upon  this  supposition,  it  is  mani- 
test  he  would,  upon  his  coining  abroad  into  the  world,  he  in- 
supportable to  society,  and  the  treatment  which  he  \vouli 
receive  from  it,  would  render  it  so  to  him  ;  and  he  could  not 
fail  of  doing  somewhat  very  soon,  for  which  he  would  be  de- 
livered over  into  the  hands  of  civil  jusiice :  and  thus,  in  the 
end,  he  would  be  convinced  of  the  obligations  he  was  under 
to  his  wise  instructer.  Or  suppose  this  scheme  of  fatality, 
in  any  other  way,  applied  to  practice,  such  practical  appli- 
cation of  it  will  be  found  equally  absurd,  equally  fallacious 
in  a  practical  sense.  For  instance,  that  if  a  man  be  destined 
to  live  such  a  time,  he  shall  live  to  it,  though  he  take  no 
care  of  his  own  preservation  ;  or  if  he  be  destined  to  die  be 
ibre  that  time,  no  care  can  prevent  it ;  therefore,  all  care 
about  preserving  one's  life  is  to  be  neglected  •  which  is  the 
fallacy  instanced  in  by  the  ancients.  But  now,  on  the  con- 
trarj',  none  of  these  practical  absurdities  can  be  drawn,  from 
reasoning  upon  the  supposition,  that  we  are  free ;  but  al] 
such  reasoning,  with  regard  to  the  common  affairs  of  life,  is 
justified  by  experience.  And,  therefore,  though  it  were  ad- 
mitted that  this  opinion  of  necessity  were  speculatively  true, 
yet,  with  regard  to  practice,  it  is  as  if  it  were  false,  so  fur  as 
our  experience  reaches  ;  thai  is,  to  the  whok>  of  our  present 
life.  For,  the  constitution  of  the  present  world,  and  the  con 
dition  in  which  we  are  actual!}'  placed,  is  as  if  we  were  free. 
And  it  may  perhaps  justly  be  concluded,  that  since  the  whole 
process  of  action,  through  every  step  of  it,  suspense,  delibe- 
ration, inclining  one  way,  determining,  and  at  last  doing  as 
we  determine,  is  as  if  were  free,  therefore  wo  are  so.  But 
the  thing  here  insisted  upon  is,  that  under  the  present  na- 
tural government  of  the  world,  we  find  we  are  treated  and 
dealt  with  as  if  we  were  free,  prior  to  all  consideration  wheth- 
er we  are  or  not.  Were  this  opinion  therefore,  of  necessity, 
admitted  to  be  ever  so  true,  yet  such  is  in  fact  our  corJition 
and  ths  natural  course  of  things,  that,  whenever  we  apply 
it  to  life  and  practice,  this  application  of  it  always  misleads 
us.  and  cannot  but  mislead  us,  in  a  most  dreadful  manner, 
wiih  regard  to  our  present  interest.  An;l  how  can  poopie 
think  themselves  so  very  secure  then,  that  the  same  appli- 
cation of  the  same  opinion  may  not  mislead  them  also  i/i 
some  analogous  manner,  with  respect  to  a  future,  a  more 
general,  and  more  important  interest  ?  For,  religion  teing 


JHAP.'VI.]  AS    INFLUENCING    rRACTICE.  115 

a  practical  subject,  and  the  analogy  of  nature  showing  us, 
that,  we  have  not  faculties  to  apply  this  opinion,  were  it  a 
true  one,  to  practical  subjects  ;  whenever  we  do  apply  it  to 
the  subject  of  religion,  and  then  conclude,  that  we  are  free 
from  its  obligations,  it  is  plain  this  conclusion  cannot  be  de- 
pended upon.  There  will  still  remain  just  reason  to  think, 
whatever  appearances  are,  that  we  deceive  ourselves ;  in 
somewhat  of  a  like  manner  as  when  people  fancy  the^  can 
draw  contradictory  conclusions  from  the  idea  of  infinity. 

From  these  things  together,  the  attentive  reader  will  see, 
it  follows,  that  if,  upon  supposition  of  freedom,  the  evidence 
of  religion  be  conclusive,  it  remains  so,  upon  supposition  of 
necessity  ;  because  the  notion  of  necessity  is  not  applica- 
ble to  practical  subjects  ;  i.  c.  with  respecc  to  them,  is  as  if 
it  were  not  true.  Nor  does  this  contain  any  reflection  upon 
reason,  but  only  upon  what  is  unreasonable.  For,  to  pre- 
tend to  act  upon  reason,  in  opposition  to  practical  principles 
which  the  Author  of  our  nature  gave  us  to  act  upon,  and  to 
pretend  to  apply  our  reason  to  subjects  with  regard  to  which 
our  own  short  views,  and  even  our  experience,  will  show  us 
it  cannot  be  depended  upon, — and  such,  at  best,  the  subject 
of  necessity  must  be, — this  is  vanity,  conceit,  and  unrea- 
sonableness. 

But  this  is  not  all.  For  we  find  within  ourselves  a  will 
and  are  conscious  of  a  character.  Now,  if  this,  in  us,  be 
reconcilable  with  fate,  it  is  reconcilable  with  it  in  the  Author 
of  nature.  And,  besides,  natural  government  and  final 
causes  imply  a  character  and  a  will  in  the  Governor  and 
Designer  ;*  a  will  concerning  the  creatuies  whom*  he  gov- 
erns. The  Author  of  nature,  then,  being  certainly  of  some 
character  or  other,  notwithstanding  necessity,  it  is  evident 
this  necessity  is  as  reconcilable  with  the  particular  character 
of  benevolence,  veracity  and  justice,  in  him,  which  attri- 
butes are  the  foundation  of  religion,  as  with  any  other  char- 
acter ;  .since  we  find  this  necessity  no  more  hinders  men  from 
being  benevolent  than  cruel ;  true,  than  faithless  ;  just,  than 
unj  jst,  or,  if  the  fatalist  pleases,  what  we  call  unjust.  For 
it  ia  said  indeed,  that  what,  upon  supposition  of  freedom, 
would  be  just  punishment,  upon  supposition  of  necessity, 
Dccornes  manifestly  unjust ;  because  it  is  punishment  infiic- 

*  By  will  and  character  is  meant  that,  which,  in  speaking  of  ir.en,  wo 
ihould  express,  not  only  by  these  words,  but  also  by  the  words  temper, 
laste,  dispo  fit  ions,  practical  principles  ;  thai  whole  frame  of  mind,  J'rom 
v hence  we  act  in  one  manner  rather  than  another. 

8* 


110  OF    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY,  [PART  1. 

tod  for  doing  that  which  persons  could  not  avoid  doing.  As 
if  the  necessity,  which  is  supposed  to  destroy  the  injustice 
of  murder,  for  instance,  would  not  also  destroy  ihe  injustice 
of  punishing  it.  However,  as  little  to  the  purpose  as  thia 
obiectioa  is  in  itself,  it  is  very  much  to  the  purpose  to  observe 
from  it,  how  the  notions  of  justice  and  injustics  remain, 
even  whilst  we  endeavour  to  suppose  them  removed  ;  how 
they  force  themselves  upon  the  mind,  even  whilst  we  are 
making  suppositions  destructive  of  them  :  for  there  is  not, 
perhaps,  a  man  in  the  world,  but  would  be  ready  to  make 
this  objection  at  first  thought. 

But  though  it  is  most  evident,  that  universal  npcessity,  if 
it  be  reconcilable  with  any  thing,  is  reconcilable  with  that 
character  in  the  Author  of  nature,  which  is  the  foundation 
of  religion  ;  '  yet,  does  it  not  plainly  destroy  the  proof,  that 
he  is  of  that  character,  and  consequently  the  proof  of  reli- 
gion ?'  By  no  means.  For  we  find,  that  happiness  and 
misery  are  not  our  fate,  in  any  such  sense  as  not  to  be  tho 
consequences  of  our  behaviour,  but  that  they  are  the  conse- 
quences of  it.*  We  find  God  exercises  the  same  kind  of 
government  over  ns,  with  that  which  a  father  exercises  over 
his  children,  and  a  civil  magistrate  over  his  subjects.  Now, 
whatever  becomes  of  abstract  questions  concerning  liberty 
and  necessity,  it  evidently  appears  to  us,  that  veracity  and 
justice  must  be  the  natural  rule  and  measure  of  exercising 
this  authority,  or  government,  to  a  Being,  who  can  have  no 
competitions,  or  interfering  of  interests,  with  his  creatures 
and  his  subjects. 

But  as  the  doctrine  of  liberty,  though  we  experience  its 
truth,  may  be  perplexed  with  difficulties  which  run  up  into 
the  most  abstruse  of  all  speculations,  and  as  the  opinion  of 
necessity  seems  to  be  the  very  basis  upon  which  infidelity 
grounds  itself,  it  may  be  of  some  use  to  offer  a  more  parti« 
cular  proof  of  the  obligations  of  religion,  which  may  dis- 
tinctly be  shown  not  to  be  destroyed  by  this  opinion. 

The  proof,  from  final  causes,  of  an  intelligent  Author  of 
nature,  is  not  affected  by  the  opinion  of  necessity  :  suppo. 
sing  necessity  a  thing  possible  in  itself,  and  re^t..cilablo 
•with  the  constitution  of  things.  And  it  is  a  matter  of  fact, 
independent  on  this  or  any  other  speculation,  that  he  gov- 
nras  the  world  by  the  method  of  rewards  and  punish 
merits  ;J  and  also  that  he  hath  given  us  a  moral  faculty,  bj 

•Chap.  2. 

t  Chap.  2. 

. .          i  *y 


rHAP.  VI.]  AS    INFLUENCING    PRACTICE.  H? 

which  we  distinguish  between  actions,  and  approve  some  as 
virtuous  and  of  good  desert,  and  disapprove  others  as  vicious 
and  of  ill  desert.*  Now,  this  moral  discernment  implies,  in 
the  notion  of  it,  a  rule  of  action,  and  a  rule  of  a  very  pecu- 
liar kind  ;  for  it  carries  in  it  authority  and  a  right  of  dine 
turn  ;  authority  in  such  a  sense,  as  that  we  cannot  depart 
from  it  without  being  self- condemned.']"  And  that  the  dic- 
tates of  this  moral  faculty,  wlrch  are  by  nature  a  rule  to 
us,  are  moreover  the  laws  of  GoJ,  la\\  5  in  a  sense  including 
sanctions  maybe  thus  proved.  Consciousness  of  a  rule  or 
f  ";de  of  action,  in  creatures  who  are  capable  of  considering 
it  as  given  them  by  their  Maker,  not  only  raises  immediately 
a  sense  of  duty,  but  also  a  sense  of  security  in  following  it, 
and  of  danger  in  deviating  from  it.  A  direction  of  the  Au- 
thor of  nature,  given  to  creatures  capable  of  looking  upon 
it  as  such,  is  plainty  a  command  from  him  ;  and  a  command 
from  him  necessarily  includes  in  it,  at  least,  an  implicit  pro- 
mise in  case  of  obedience,  or  threatening,  in  case  of  disobe- 
dience. But  then  the  sense  of  perception  of  good  and  ill 
desert,!  which  is  contained  in  the  moral  discernment,  ren- 
ders the  sanction  explicit,  and  makes  it  appear,  as  one  may 
say,  expressed.  For,  since  his  method  of  government  is  to 
reward  and  punish  actions,  his  having  annexed  to  some 
actions  an  inseperable  sense  of  good  desert,  and  to  others  of 
ill,  this  surely  amounts  to  declaring  upon  whom  his  punish- 
ments shall  be  inflicted,  and  his  rewards  be  bestowed.  For 
he  must  have  given  us  this  discernment  and  sense  of  things 
as  a  presentiment  of  what  is  to  be  hereafter  ;  that  is  by  way 
of  information  beforehand,  what  we  are  finally  to  expect  in 
his  world.  There  is,  then,  most  evident  ground  to  think, 
that  the  government  of  God,  upon  the  whole,  will  be  found 
to  correspond  to  the  nature  which  he  has  given  us  ;  and 
that,  in  the  upshot  and  issue  of  things,  happiness  and  mise- 
?y  shall,  hi  fact  and  event,  be  made  to  follow  virtue  and  vice 
respectively ;  as  he  has  already,  in  so  peculiar  a  manner, 
associated  the  ideas  of  them  in  our  minds.  And  from  hence 
"sought  easily  be  deduced  the  obligations  of  religious  worship, 
were  it  only  to  be  considered  as  a  means  of  preserving  upon 
our  minds  a  sense  of  this  moral  government  of  God,  and 
(securing  oar  obedience  to  it ;  which  yet  is  an  axtremely  im- 
perfect view  of  that  most  important  duty. 

•  Dissertation  2.  f  Sermon  2d  at  the  Rolls. 

t  Dissertation  2. 


118  OP    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY.  [rART   t 

Now,  I  say,  no  objection  from  necessity  can  lie  againsl 
this  general  proof  of  religion  :  none  against  the  proposition 
reasoned  upon,  that  we  have  such  a  moral  faculty  arid  dis- 
cernment ;  because  this  is  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  a  thing  of 
experience,  that  human  kind  is  thus  constituted  :  none 
against  the  conclusion  ;  because  it  is  immediate,  and  wholly 
from  this  fact.  For  the  conclusion,  ihat  God  will  finally  re- 
ward the  righteous  and  punish  the  wicked,  is  not  here  drawn, 
fiom  its  appearing  to  us  fit  that  he  should,  but  from  its  ap- 
pearing, that  he  has  told  us  he  will.  And  this  he  haih  cer- 
tainly told  us,  in  the  promise  and  threatening,  which,  it  hath 
been  observed,  the  notion  of  a  command  implies,  and  the 
sense  of  good  and  ill  desert,  which  he  has  given  us,  more 
distinctly  expresses.  And  this  reasoning  from  fact  is  confir- 
med, and,  in  some  degree,  even  verified,  by  other  facts  ,  by 
the  natural  tendencies  of  virtue  and  of  vice  ;  and  by  this, 
that  God,  in  the  natural  course  of  his  providence,  punishes 
vicious  actions,  as  mischievous  to  society  ;  and  also  vicious 
actions,  as  such,  in  the  strictest  sense.  So  that  the  gene- 
ral proof  of  religion  is  unanswerably  real,  even  upon  the 
wild  supposition  which  we  are  arguing  upon. 

It  must  likewise  be  observed  farther,  that  natural  religion 
hath,  besides  this,  an  external  evidence,  which  the  doctrine 
of  necessity,  if  it  could  be  true,  would  not  affect.  Foi-,  sup- 
pose a  peison.  by  the  observations  and  reasoning  above,  or 
by  any  other,  convinced  of  the  truth  of  religion  ;  that  there 
is  a  God,  who  made  the  world,  who  is  the  moral  Governor 
and  Judge  of  mankind,  and  will,  upon  the  whole,  deal  with 
every  one  according  to  his  works  ;  I  say,  suppose  a  person 
convinced  of  this  by  reason,  but  to  know  nothing  at  all  of 

*  However,  I  am  far  from  intending  to  deny,  that  the  will  of  God  is  de- 
termined  by  what  is  fit,  by  the  right  and  reason  of  the  case;  though  one 
chooses  to  decline  matters  of  such  abstract  speculation,  and  to  sjx-ak  with 
caution  when  one  does  s;;eak  of  them.  But  if  it  be  intelligible  to  say, 
that  it  is  Jit  and  reasonable  for  every  one  to  consult  his  own  happinfstt 
then  Jitncss  of  action,  or  the  right  and  reason  of  the  case,  is  an  intp'iigi- 
ble  mariner  of  speaking.  And  it  pecms  as  inconceivable,  to  suppc-K  God 
to  approve  one  course  of  action,  or  one  end,  preferable  to  another,  vhich 
yet  his  acting  at  all  from  design  implies  that  he  dees,  without  supposing 
somewhat  prior  in  that  end,  to  be  the  ground  of  the  preference  ;  as  to  sup 
pose  him  to  discern  an  abstract  proposition  to  be  true,  without  supposing 
somewhat  prior  in  it  to  bo  the  ground  of  the  discernment.  It  <!oiii  not, 
therefore,  appear,  that  moral  right  is  any  n:ore  relative  to  |  ercrption  than 
abstract  truth  is;  or  that  it  is  any  more  improper  to  speak  of  the  fitnoat 
and  righlness  of  actions  and  ends,  as  founded  in  the  nature  of  thinjjs,  than 
to  speak  of  abstract  truth,  as  thus  founded. 


CHAP1.   VI  "|  AS    INFLUENCING    PRACTICE.  113 

B.n(iquity  or  the  present  state  of  mankind,  it  would  bo  next 
nral  for  such  an  one  to  be  inquisitive,  what  \vas  the  history 
&f  this  system  of  doctrine  ;  at  what  time,  and  in  what  man- 
ner, it  came  first  into  the  world  ;  and  whether  ;t  were  believ- 
ed by  anv  considerable  part  of  it.  And  were  he  upon  in- 
quiry to  find,  that  a  particular  person,  in  a  late  age,  first  of 
all  proposed  it.  as  a  deduction  of  reason,  and  thai  mankind 
were  before  wholly  ignorant  of  it. ;  then  though  its  evidence 
from  reason  would  remain,  there  would  be  no  additional  JH'O- 
bability  of  its  truth,  from  the  account  of  its  discovery.  But 
instead  of  this  being  the  fact  of  the  case,  on  the  contrary,  he 
would  find  what,  could  not  but  afford  him  a  very  strong  con- 
firmation of  its  truth:  First,  That  somewhat  of  this  system, 
with  more  or  fewer  additions  and  alterations,  hath  been  pro- 
fessed in  all  ages  and  countries  of  which  we  have  any  cer- 
tain infjrmatiori  relating  to  this  matter.  Sec  on  My,  That  it 
is  certain  historical  fact,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  things  up.  that 
this  whole  system  of  belief,  that  there  is  one  God,  the  Crea- 
tor and  moral  Governor  of  the  world,  and  that  mankind  is  in 
a  state  of  religion,  was  received  in  the  first  ages.  And,  third- 
ly, That  as  there  is  no  hint  or  intimation  in  history,  that  this 
system  was  first  reasoned  out ;  so  there  is  express  historical 
or  traditional  evidence,  as  ancient  as  history,  that  it  was 
taught  first  by  revelation.  Now,  these  things  must  be  al- 
lowed to  be  of  great  weight.  The  first  of  them,  general 
consent,  shows  this  system  to  be  conformable  to  the  common 
sense  of  mankind.  The  second,  namely,  that  religion  \vas 
believed  in  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  especially  as  it  does 
not  appearthat  there  were  then  any  superstitious  or  false  addi- 
tionstoit,  cannot,  but  beafarther  confirmation  of  its  truth.  For 
it  is  a  proof  of  this  alternative  ;  either  that  it  came  into  the 
world  by  relation,  or  that  it  is  natural,  obvious,  and  forces  it- 
self upon  the  rnind.  The  former  of  these  is  the  conclusion 
of  learned  men.  And  whoever  will  consider,  how  unapt  for 
speculation  rude  and  uncultivated  minds  are,  will,  perhaps 
from  hence  alone,  be  strongly  inclined  to  believe  it  the  truth. 
,ind  a*  it  is  shown  in  the  second  part  *  of  this  Treatise,  thai 
tltorcis  nothing  of  such  peculiar  presumption  against  a  levc- 
lation  in  the  begining  of  the  world,  as  there  is  supposed  to 
be  against  subsequent  ones;  a  scep-ic  could  not,  1  think, 
give  any  account,  which  would  appear  more  probable  even 
to  himself,  oi  the  early  pretences  to  revelation,  than  by  sup- 

•  Chap,  at 


120  OF    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY,  [^AKt  * 

posing  some  real  original  one,  from  whence  ihey  were  copi 
ed.  Anil  the  third  thing  above  mentioned,  that  there  is  ex- 
press historical  or  traditional  evidence,  as  ancient  as  history, 
of  the  system  of  religion  being  taught  mankind  by  re  vela- 
lion  ;  this  must  be  admitted  as  some  degree  of  real  proof, 
that  it  was  so  taught.  For  why  should  not  the  most  ancient 
tradition  be  admitted  as  some  additional  proof  of  a  fact, 
against  whi'  a  there  is  no  presumption  ?  And  this  proof  ia 
mentioned  acre,  because  it  has  its  weight  to  show,  that  reli- 
gion came  into  the  world  by  revelation  prior  to  all  considera- 
tion of  the  proper  authority  of  any  book  supposed  to  con- 
tain it ;  and  even  prior  to  all  consideration,  whether  the  reve- 
lation itself  be  uncorruptly  handed  down  and  related,  of 
mixed  and  darkened  with  fables.  Thus  the  historical  ac- 
count which  we  have,  of  the  origin  of  religion,  taking  in  all 
circumstances,  is  a  real  confirmation  of  its  truth,  no  way  af- 
fected by  the  opinion  of  necessity.  And  the  external  evi- 
dence, even  of  natural  religion,  is  by  no  means  inconsidera- 
ble. 

But  it  is  carefully  to  be  observed,  and  ought  to  be  recollec- 
ted after  all  proofs  of  virtue  and  religion,  which  are  only 
general,  that  as  speculative  reasons  may  be  neglected,  pre- 
judiced, and  deceived,  so  also  may  our  moral  understanding 
be  impaired  and  perverted,  and  the  dictates  of  it  not  impar- 
tially attended  to.  This,  indeed,  proves  nothing  against  the 
reality  of  our  speculative  or  practical  faculties  of  perception  ; 
against  their  being  intended  by  nature  to  inform  us  in  the 
theory  of  things,  and  instruct  us  how  we  are  to  behave,  ana 
what  we  are  to  expect,  in  consequence  of  our  behaviour. — 
Yet  our  liableness,  in  the  degree  we  are  liable,  to  prejudice 
and  perversion,  is  a  most  serious  admonition  to  us  to  be  upon 
our  guard,  with  respect  to  what  is  of  such  consequence,  as 
our  determinations  concerning  virtue  and  religion  ;  and  par- 
ticularly, not  to  take  custom,  and  fashion,  and  slight  notions 
of  honor,  or  imaginations  of  present  ease,  use,  and  conveni- 
ence to  mankind,  for  the  only  moral  rule.* 

The  foregoing  observations,  drawn  from  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  and  the  history  of  religion,  amount,  when  taken  to- 
gether, to  a  real  practical  proof  of  it,  not  to  be  confuted ; 
such  a  proof  as,  considering  the  infinite  importance  of  tba 
thing,  I  apprehend,  would  be  admitted  fully  sufficient,  in 
reason,  to  influence  the  actions  of  men,  who  act  upon 


=  HAP.  VI.]  AS    INFLUENCING    PRACTICE.  121 

thought  and  reflection;  if  ii  were  admitted  that  there  is  no 
proof  of  iho  contrary.  But  it  may  be  said  ;  '  There  are 
many  probabilities,  which  cannot  indeed  be  confined,  i.  c. 
shown  to  bo  no  probabilities,  and  yet  may  be  overbalanced 
by  greater  probabilities  on  the  'other  side  ;  much  more  by 
demonstration.  And  there  is  no  occasion  to  object  against 
particular  arguments  alleged  for  an  opinion,  when  the  opin- 
ion itself  may  be  clearly  shown  to  be  false,  without  meddling 
wiih  such  arguments  at  all,  but  leaving  them  just  as  they 
are.  Now,  the  method  of  government  by  rewards  and 
punishments,  and  especially  rewarding  and  punishing  good 
and  ill  desert,  as  such,  respectively,  must  go  upon  supposi- 
tion, that  we  are  free,  and  not  necessary  agents.  And  it  is 
incredible,  that  the  Author  of  nature,  should  govern  us  up- 
on a  supposition  as  true,  which  he  knows  to  be  false  ;  and 
therefore  absurd  to  think,  he  will  reward  or  punish  us  for  our 
.actions  hereafter ;  especially  that  he  will  do  it  under  the 
notion,  that  they  are  of  good  or  ill  desert.'  Here,  then,  the 
matter  is  brought  to  a  point.  And  the  answer  to  all  this  is 
full,  and  not  be  evaded  ;  that  the  whole  constitution  and 
course  of  things,  the  whole  analogy  of  providence  shows, 
beyond  possibility  of  doubt,  that  the  conclusion  from  this 
easoning  is  false,  wherever  the  fallacy  lies.  The  doctrine 
of  freedom,  indeed,  clearly  shows  where  ;  in  supposing  our- 
selves necessary,  when  in  truth  we  are  free  agents.  But, 
upon  the  supposition  of  necessity,  the  fallacy  lies  in  taking 
for  granted  that  it  is  incredible  necessary  agents  should  be 
rewarded  and  punished.  But  that,  somehow  or  other,  the 
conclusion  now  mentioned  is  false,  is  most  ceitain.  For  it 
is  fact,  that  God  does  govern  even  brute  creatures  by  the 
method  of  rewards  and  punishments,  in  the  natuial  course 
of  things.  And  men  are  rewarded  and  punished  for  their 
actions,  punished  for  actions  mischievous  to  society  as  being 
BO,  punished  for  vicious  actions  as  such,  by  the  natural  in- 
strumentality of  each  other,  under  the  present  conduct  of 
Providence.  Nay,  even  the  affection  of  gratitude,  and  the 
passion  of  resentment,  and  the  rewards  and  punishments 
following  from  them,  which  in  general  are  to  be  considered 
as  natural,  i.  e.  from  the  Author  of  nature  ;  these  rewards 
and  punishments,  being  naturally  annexed  to  actions  con- 
sidered as  implying  good  intention  and  good  desert,  ill  inten- 
tion and  iii  desert ;  these  natural  rewards  and  punishments. 


122  OF    THE    OPINION    OF    NECESSITY,  [PART  t 

I  sny.  arc  as  much  a  contradiction  to  the  conclusion  above, 
and  show  its  falsehood,  as  a  more  exact  and  complete  re« 
warding  and  punishing  of  good  and  ill  desert,  as  such.  So 
thai,  if  it  be  incredible  that  necessary  agents  should  be  thus 
rewarded  and  punished,  then  men  are  not  necessary,  bul 
five;  since  it  is  matter  of  fact  that  they  are  thus  rewarded 
and  punished.  But  if,  on  the  contrary,  which  is  the  supp> 
siiion  we  have  been  arguing  upon,  it  lie  insisted,  that  men 
are  necessary  agents,  then  there  is  nothing  incredible  in  the 
farther  supposition  of  necessary  agents  being  thus  reward- 
ed and  punished  ;  since  \ve  ourselves  are  thus  dealt  with. 

From  the  whole,  therefore,  it.  must  follow,  that  a  necessi- 
ty supposed  possible,  and  reconcilable  with  the  constitution 
of  things,  does  in  no  sort,  prove,  that  the  Author  of  nature 
will  not,  nor  destroy  the  proof  that  he  will,  finally  and  upon 
the  whole,  in  his  eternal  government,  render  his  creatures 
happy  or  miserable,  by  some  means  or  other,  as  they  behave 
well  or  ill.  Or,  to  express  this  conclusion  in  words  con- 
formable 10  the  title  of  the  chapter,  the  analogy  of  nature 
shows  us.  that  the  opinion  of  necessity,  considered  as  prac- 
tical, is  false.  And  if  necessity,  upon  the  supposition  above 
memioned,  do?h  not  desiroy  the  proof  of  natural  religion,  ii 
evidently  makes  no  alteration  in  ihe  proof  of  revealed. 

From  these  things,  likewise,  we  may  learn  in  what  sense 
to  understand  that  ireneral  assertion,  that  the  opinion  of  ne- 
cessity is  essentially  destructive  of  all  religion.  First,  In  a 
practical  sense  ;  thai  by  ihis  notion  atheistical  men  pretend 
to  satisfy  and  encourage  themselves  in  vice,  and  justify  to 
other?  their  disregard  to  all  religion.  And,  Secondly,  In  tho 
strictest  sense  ;  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  the  whole  consti- 
tution of  n.-iture,  and  to  what  we  may  every  moment  expe- 
rience in  ourselves,  and  so  overturns  every  thing.  But  by 
no  means  is  this  assertion  to  be  understood,  as  if  necessity, 
supposing  it  could  possibly  be  reconciled  with  the  constitution 
of  things,  and  with  what  we  experience,  were  rot  also  recon- 
cilable with  religion ;  for  upon  this  supposition  it  deraonatra/ 
bly  is  so. 


CHIP   VII.  A  SCHEME    INCOMmF.HF.NSIBLK. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OJ  the  Governmcm  of  God,  considered  as  a  Schtmt,  w 
Constitution^  imperfectly  comprehended. 

THOUGH  it  be,  as  it  cannot  but  be,  acknowledged,  that 
the  analogy  of  nature  gives  a  strong  credibility  10  the  gene- 
ral doctrine  of  religion,  and  to  the  several  particular  things 
contained  in  it,  considered  as  so  many  mailers  of  fact  :  nnd 
likewise,  that  it  shows  this  credibility  not  to  be  desl roved  liv 
any  notions  of  necessity  ;  yet  still,  objections  may  be  insis- 
ted upon  against  the  wisdom,  equity,  and  goodness  of  the 
divine  government,  implied  in  the  notion  of  religion,  and 
against,  the  method  by  which  this  gov.MTiinem  is  conducted, 
to  which  objections  analogy  can  be  no  direct  answer.  For 
the  credibility,  or  the  certain  truth,  of  a  matter  of  fact,  does 
not  immediately  prove  any  thing  concerning  the  wi?dom 
or  goodness  of  it  ;  and  analogy  can  do  no  more,  immediate- 
ly  or  directly,  than  show  such  and  such  things  to  be  true  or 
credible,  considered  only  as  matters  of  fact.  But,  still,  if, 
upon  supposition  of  a  moral  constitution  of  nature  and  a 
moral  government  over  it,  analogy  suirgests  and  makes  it 
credible,  that  this  government  must  be  a  scheme,  system,  or 
constitution  of  government,  as  distinguished  from  a  number 
of  single  unconnected  acts  of  distributive  justice  and  good- 
ness ;  and  likewise,  that  it  must  be  a  scheme,  so  imperfectly 
comprehended,  and  of  such  a  sort  in  other  respects.,  n*.  to 
aliord  a  direct  general  answer  to  all  objections  against  the 
justice  and  goodness  of  it  ;  then  analog}'  is,  remotely,  of 
great  service  in  answering  those  objections,  both  by  sug- 
gesting the  answer,  and  showing  it  to  be  a  credible  one. 

Now,  this,  upon  inquiry,  will  be  found  to  be  the  caso. 
For,  first  Upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a  moral  gov- 
ernment over  the  world,  the  analogy  of  his  natural  govern- 
ment suggests,  and  makes  it  credible,  that  his  moral  govern- 


J^4  THE    GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD,  [P*RT  I. 

rnent  must  \w  a  scheme  quite  beyond  our  comprehension  j 
and  this  afforas  a  general  answer  to  all  objections  against  the 
j  i. is  tic  e  and  goodness  of  it.  And,  secondly,  A  more  distinct 
observation  of  some  particular  things  contained  in  God's 
scheme  of  natural  government,  the  like  things  being  suppos- 
ed, by  analogy,  to  be  contained  in  his  moral  government,  will 
farther  show  how  little  weight  is  to  be  laid  upon  these  objec- 
tions. 

1.  Upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a  moral  govern- 
ment over  the  world,  the  analogy  of  his  natural  government 
suggests  arid  makes  it  credible,  that  his  moral  government 
must  be  a  scheme  quite  beyond  our  comprehension  :  and 
this  affords  a  general  answer  to  all  objections  against  the  jus- 
tice and  goodness  of  it.  It  is  most  obvious,  analogy  renders 
it  highly  credible,  that  upon  supposition  of  a  moral  govern- 
ment, it  must  be  a  scheme, — for  the  world,  and  the  whole 
natural  government  of  it,  appears  to  be  sr. — to  be  a  scheme, 
system,  or  constitution,  whose  parts  correspond  to  each  oth- 
er, and  to  a  whole,  as  really  as  any  work  of  art,  or  as  any 
particular  model  of  a  civil  constit  ution,  and  government.  In 
this  great  scheme  of  the  natural  world,  individuals  have  va- 
rious peculiar  relations  to  other  individuals  of  their  own  spe- 
cies. And  whole,  sptcies  are,  we  find,  variously  related  to 
other  sprcies.  upon  this  earth.  Nor  do  we  know  how  much 
farther  these  kind  of  relations  may  extend.  And,  as  there 
is  not  any  action,  or  natural  event,  which  we  are  acquainted 
with,  so  single  and  unconnected  as  not  to  have  a  respect  tc 
some  other  actions  and  events,  so.  possibly,  each  of  them, 
when  it  has  not  an  immediate,  may  yet  have  a  remote,  nat- 
ural relation  to  other  actions  and  events,  much  bej'ond  the 
compass  of  this  present  world.  There  seems  indeed,  noth- 
ing from  whence  we  can  so  much  as  make  a  conjecture, 
whether  all  creatures,  actions,  and  events  throughout  the 
whole  cf  nature,  have  relations  to  each  other.  But,  as  it  is 
obvious  ihat  all  events  have  future  unknown  consequences, 
ao,  if  we  trace  any,  as  far  as  we  can  go,  into  what  is  connec- 
ted with  it,  we  shall  find,  that  if  such  event  were  not  con- 
nected with  somewhat  farther,  in  nature  unknown  to  us, 
somewhat  both  past  and  present,  such  event  could  not,  possi- 
bly have  been  at  all.  Nor  can  we  give  the  whole  account 
of  any  one  thing  whatever  ;  of  all  its  causes,  ends,  and  ne- 
cessary adjuncts'  those  adjuncts,  I  mean,  without  which  it 
couid  not  have  been.  By  this  most  astonishing  connexion, 
these  reciprocal  correspondences  and  mutual  relations,  every 


CHAP    VII.]         A    SCHEME    INCOMPREHENSIBLE.  12$ 

thine:  wmcri  we  see  in  the  course  of  nature,  is  actually 
bronghi  about.  And  things  seemingly  the  most  insignificant 
imaginable,  are  perpetually  oLserved  to  be  necessary  condi- 
tions to  other  things  of  the  greatest  importance  ;  so  that  any 
one  thing  whatever  may,  for  aught  we  know  lo  the  contra- 
ry, be  a  necessary  condition  to  any  other.  The  natural 
world,  then,  and  natural  government  of  it,  being  such  an  in- 
comprehensible scheme  ;  so  incomprehensible,  that  a  man 
must  really,  in  the  literal  sense,  know  nothing  at  all,  who  is 
not  sensible  of  his  ignorance  in  it :  this  immediately  suggests, 
and  strongly  shows  the  credibility,  that  the  moral  world  and 
government  of  it  may  be  so  too.  Indeed,  the  natural  and 
moral  constitution  and  government  of  the  world  are  so  con- 
nected, as  to  make  up  together  but  one  scheme  ;  and  it  is 
highly  probable,  that  the  first  is  formed  and  carried  on  mere- 
ly in  subserviency  to  the  latter,  as  the  vegetable  work'  if.  for 
the  animal,  and  organized  bodies  for  rninds.  But.  the  tl  ing 
intended  here  is,  without  inquiring  how  far  the  administra- 
tion of  the  natural  world  is  subordinate  to  that  of  the  moral, 
only  to  observe  the  credibility,  that  one  should  be  analogous 
or  similar  to  the  other :  that,  therefore,  every  act  of  divine 
justice  and  goodness  may  be  supposed  to  look  much  beyond 
itself  and  its  immediate  object ;  may  have  some  reference  10 
other  parts  oi"  God's  moral  administration,  and  to  a  general 
moral  plan  ;  and  that,  every  circumstance  of  this  his  moral 
government  may  be  adjusted  beforehand  with  a  view  to  the 
whole  of  it.  Thus,  for  example  :  the  determined  length  of 
time,  and  the  degrees  and  ways  in  which  virtue  is  to  remain 
in  a  state  of  warfare  and  discipline,  and  in  which  wickedness 
is  permitted  to  have  its  progress  :  the  times  appointed  for  the 
execution  of  justice  ;  the  appointed  instruments  of  it  ;  the 
kinds  of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  the  manners  of  their 
distribution:  all  particular  instances  of  divine  justice  and 
goodness,  and  every  circumstance  of  them,  may  have  such 
respects  to  each  other,  as  to  make  up  altogether  a  whole, 
connected  and  related  in  all  its  parts  ;  a  scheme,  or  system, 
wlvch  is  as  properly,  one  as  the  natural  world  is,  and  of  the 
like  kind.  And  supposing  this  to  be  the  case,  it  is  most  evi- 
dent that  we  are  not  competent  judges  of  this  scheme,  from 
the  imall  parts  of  it  which  come  within  our  view  in  the  pre- 
lent  life :  and  therefore  no  objections  against  any  of  thcso 
parts  can  be  insisted  upon  by  reasonable  men. 

This  our  ignorance,  and  the  consequence  here  drawn  from 
»t,  are  universally  acknowledged  upon  other  occasions ;  and, 


126  THE    GOVERNMENT    OP   GOD,  [PART  1 

thouglt  scarce  denied,  yet  are  universally  forgot,  when 
persons  come  to  argue  against  religion.  And  it  ia 
not  perhaps  easy,  even  for  the  most  reasonable  men,  al' 
ways  to  bear  in  mind  the  degree  of  our  ignorance,  and 
make  due  allowances  for  it.  Upon  these  accounts,  it 
ir-.iiy  not  be  useless  to  go  GJ,  a  litile  farther,  in  order  to  r-how 
more  distinctly,  how  just  an  answer  our  ignorance  is,  to  ob« 
jcctions  against  the  scheme  of  Providence.  Suppose,  then, 
a  person  boldly  to  assert,  that  the  things  complained  of,  the 
oriirin  and  continuance  of  evil,  might  easily  have  been  pre- 
vented by  repeated  interpositions  ;  *  interpositions  so  guard- 
ed and  circumstanced,  as  would  prelude  all  mischief  arising 
from  them  :  or,  if  this  were  impracticable,  that  a  scheme  of 
government  is  itself  an  imperfection  ;  since  more  good  might 
have  been  >roducecl  without  any  scheme,  system,  or  consti- 
tution at  all,  by  continued  single  unrelated  acts  of  distribu- 
tive justice  and  goodness,  because  these  would  have  occa- 
sioned no  irregularities  :  and  farther  than  this,  it  is  presum- 
ed, the  objections  will  not  be  carried.  Yet  the  answer  is  ob> 
vious  ;  that,  were  these  assertions  true,  still  the  observations 
above,  concerning  our  ignorance  in  the  scheme  of  divine 
government,  and  the  consequence  drawn  from  it,  would  hold 
in  great  measure,  enough  to  vindicate  religion  against  all 
objections  from  the  disorders  of  the  present  state.  Were 
these  assertions  true,  yet  the  government  of  the  world  might 
be  just  and  good  notwithstanding;  for,  at  the  most,  they 
would  infer  nothing  more  than  that  it  might  have  been  bet- 
ter. But,  indeed,  they  are  mere  arbitraiy  assertions  ;  no 
man  being  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  possibilities  of 
things,  to  bring  any  proof  of  them  to  the  lowest  degree  of 
probability.  For,  however  possible  what  is  asserted  may 
seem,  yet  many  instances  may  be  alledged,  in  things  much 
less  out  of  our  reach,  of  suppositions  absolutely  impossible  and 
reducible  to  the  most  palpable  self-contradictions,  which  not 
every  one  by  any  means  could  perceive  to  be  such,  nor  per- 
haps any  one  at  first  sight  suspect.  From  these  things  it  is 
eas\  to  see  distinctly,  how  our  ignorance,  as  it  is  the  com- 
Tioi:.  is  really  a  satisfactory  answer  to  all  objections  against 
ihe  justice  ami  goodness  of  Providence.  If  a  man,  contem- 
plating any  one  providential  dispensation,  which  had  no  re- 
lation to  aiiv  others,  should  object,  that  he  discerned  in  it  » 
.lisreijard  to  justice,  or  a  deficiency  of  goodness,  nothing 


CHAP.  VII.]        A    SCHEME  INCOMPREHENSIBLE.  127 

\vould  be  less  an  ans\vcr  to  such  objection,  than  our  igno- 
rance in  other  parts  of  Providence,  or  in  the  po^ibiluins  of 
tilings,  no  way  related  to  what,  he  was  contemplating.  Bu! 
when  we  know  not  but  the  parts  objected  against  may  be 
relative  to  other  parts  unknown  to  us,  and  when  we  are  un- 
acquainted with  what  is,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  practi- 
cable in  the  case  before  us,  then  our  ignorance  is  u  satisfac- 
tory answer ;  because  some  unknown  relation,  or  some  un- 
known impossibility,  may  render  what  is  objected  against 
just  and  good  ;  nay,  good  in  the  highest  practical  degree. 

II.  And  how  little  weight  is  to  be  laid  upon  such  objec- 
tions will  farther  appear,  by  a  more  distinct  observat  ion  of 
some  particular  things  contained  in  the  natural  government 
of  God,  the  like  to  which  may  be  supposed  from  analogy,  to 
be  contained  in  his  moral  government. 

First,  As,  in  the  scheme  of  the  natural  world,  no  ends  ap- 
pear to  be  accomplished  without  means  ;  so  we  find  that 
means  very  undesirable  often  conduce  to  bring  about  ends 
in  such  a  measure  desirable,  as  greatly  to  over-balance  the 
disagreeableness  of  the  means.  Aud  in  cases  where  such 
means  are  conducive  to  such  ends,  iT"is  not  reason,  but  ex- 
perience, which  shows  us  that  they  are  thus  conducive. 
Experience  also  shows  many  means  to  be  conducive  and 
necessary  to  accomplish  ends,  which  means,  before  experi- 
ence, we  should  have  thought  would  have  haa  even  a  con- 
trary tendency.  Now,  from  these  observations  relating  to 
the  natural  scheme  of  the  world,  the  moral  being  supposed 
analogous  to  it,  arises  a  great  credibility,  that  the  putting 
our  misery  in  each  other's  power  to  the  degree  it  is,  and 
making  men  liable  to  vice  to  the  degree  we  are ;  and,  in 
general,  that  those  things  which  are  objected  against  the 
moral  scheme  of  Providence  may  be,  upon  the  whole,  friend- 
ly and  assistant  to  virtue,  aiv1  ^locluctive  of  an  over  balance 
of  happiness  ;  i.  c.  the  'Mugs  objected  against  may  be  means 
by  which  an  over-balance  of  good  will,  in  the  end,  be  fount? 
produced.  And,  from  the  same  observations,  it  appears  to  be 
no  presumption  against  this,  that  we  do  not,  if  indeed  \ve  do 
r.ot,  sec  those  means  to  have  any  such  tendency,  or  that 
thay  seern  lo  us  to  have  a  contrary  one.  Thus,  those  things 
whicn  we  call  irregularities,  may  not  be  so  at  all ;  because 
they  may  be  means  of  accomplishing  wise  and  good  ends 
more  considerable.  And  it  may  bu  added,  as  above,  that 
they  may  also  be  the  only  means  by  which  the^e  wise  and 
good  «nds  are  ca  pable  of  being  accomplished. 


123  THE    GOVERNMENT   OF    GOD 

After  these  observations  it  may  be  proper  to  add,  in  ordei 
to  obviate  an  absurd  and  wicked  conclusion  from  any  oi 
them,  that  though  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  from  whence 
we  arc  capable  of  vice  and  misery,  may,  as  it  undoubtedly 
does,  contribute  to  the  perfection  and  happiness  of  the  world  ; 
and  though  the  actual  permission  of  evil  maybe  beneficial 
to  it,  (i.  e.  it  would  have  been  more  mischievous,  not  that  a 
wicked  person  had  himself  abstained  from  his  own  wicked- 
ness, but  that  any  one  had  forcibly  prevented  it,  than  that  it 
was  permitted  ;)  yet,  notwithstanding,  it  might  have  been 
much  better  for  the  world  if  this  very  evil  had  never  been 
done.  Na}:,  it  is  most  clearly  conceivable,  that  the  very 
commission  of  wickedness  may  be  beneficial  to  the  world, 
and  yet  that  it  would  be  infinitely  more  beneficial  for  men  to 
refrain  from  it.  For  thus,  in  the  wise  and  good  constitution 
of  the  natural  world,  there  are  disorders  which  bring  their 
own  cures  ;  diseases  which  are  themselves  remedies.  Many 
a  man  would  have  died,  had  it  not  been  for  the  gout  or  fever ; 
yet  it  would  be  thought  madness  to  assert,  that  sickness  is  a 
better  or  more  perfect  state  than  health  ;  though  the  like, 
with  regard  to  the  moral  world,  has  been  asserted.  But, 

Secondly,  The  natural  government  of  the  world  is  carried 
or.  by  goneral  laws.  For  this  there  may  be  wise  and  good 
reasons  ;  the  wises',  and  best,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  con 
trary.  And  that  there  are  such  reasons,  is  suggested  to  our 
thoughts  by  the  analogy  of  nature  ;  by  our  being  made  to 
experiei  ce  good  ends  to  be  accomplished,  as  indeed  all  the 
good  w  hich  we  enjoy  is  accomplished,  by  this  means,  that 
the  law;-,,  by  which  the  world  is  governed,  are  general.  For 
we  have  scarce  any  kind  of  enjoyments,  but  what  we  arc, 
in  some  way  or  other,  instrumental  in  procuring  ourselves, 
by  acting  in  a  manner  which  we  foresee  likely  to  procure 
them :  nov-  this  foresight  could  not  be  at  all,  were  not  the 
government  of  the  world  carneu  ^n  by  general  laws.  And 
though,  for  aught  we  know  to  the  contrary,  every  single 
case  may  be,  at  length,  found  to  have  been  provided  for  even 
by  these,  yet  to  prevent  all  irregularities,  or  remedy  them  as 
they  arise,  by  the  wisest  and  best  general  laws,  may  be  im- 
possible in  the  nature  of  things,  as  we  see  it  is  absolutely 
impossible  in  civil  government.  But  then  wo  are  ready  tc 
think,  that,  the  constitution  of  nature  remaining  as  i',  is,  and 
the  course  of  things  being  permitted  to  go  on,  ir  other  re- 
upects,  as  it  does,  there  might  be  interpositions  to  prevent 
irregularities,  though  they  could  not  have  been  prevented  d 


CHAP.  VII.]       A    SCHEME    INCOMPREHENSIBLE.  129 

remedied  by  any  general  laws.  And  there  would  indeed  be 
reason  to  wish — which,  by  the  way,  is  very  different  from  a, 
right  to  claim — that  all  irregularities  were  prevented  or 
remedied  by  present  interpositions,  if  those  interpositions 
would  have  no  other  effect  than  this.  But  it  is  plain  they 
would  have  some  visible  and  immediate  bad  effects  ;  for  in- 
stance, they  would  encourage  idleness  and  negligence,  arid 
they  would  render  doubtful  the  natural  rule  of  life,  which  is 
ascertained  by  this  very  thing,  that  the  course  of  the  world 
b  carried  on  by  general  laws.  And  farther,  it  is  certain  they 
would  have  distant  effects,  and  very  great  ones  too,  by 
means  of  the  wonderful  connexions  before  mentioned.  So 
that  we  cannot  so  much  as  guess,  what  would  be  the  whole 
result  of  the  interpositions  desired.  It  may  be  said,  any  bad 
result  might  be  prevented  by  farther  interpositions,  whenever 
there  was  occasion  for  them  ;  but  this  again  is  talking  quite 
at  random,  and  in  the  dark.  Upon  the  whole,  then,  we  see 
wise  reasons  -why  the  course  of  the  world  should  be  carried 
on  by  general  laws,  and  good  ends  accomplished  by  this 
means,  and,  for  aught  we  know,  there  may  be  the  wisest 
reasons  for  it,  and  the  best  ends  accomplished  by  it.  We 
have  no  ground  to  believe,  that  all  irregularities  could  be 
remedied  as  they  arise,  or  could  have  been  precluded  by  gene- 
ral laws.  We  find  that,  interpositions  would  produce  evil, 
and  prevent  good ;  and,  for  aught  we  know,  they  would 
produce  greater  evil  than  they  would  prevent,  and  prevent 
greater  good  than  they  would  produce.  And  if  this  be  the 
case,  then,  the  not  interposing  is  so  far  from  being  a  ground 
of  complaint,  that  it  is  an  instance  of  goodness.  This  is  in- 
telligible and  sufficient ;  and  going  farther  seems  beyond  ihe 
utmost  reach  of  our  faculties. 

But  it  may  be  said,  that  'after  all,  these  supposed  im- 
possibilities and  relations  are  what  we  are  unacquainted 
with  ;  and  we  must  judge  of  religion,  as  of  other  things,  by 
what  we  do  know,  and  look  ur/bn  the  rest  as  nothing  :  or, 
however,  that  the  answers  here  given  to  what  is  objected 
against  religion,  may  equally  be  made  use  of  to  invalidate 
the  proofs  of  it,  since  their  stress  lies  so  very  much  upon  our 
ignorance.'  But, 

First,  Though  total  ignorance  in  any  matter  does  indeed 
equally  destroy,  or  rather  preclude,  all  proof  concerning  it, 
and  objections  against  it,  yet  partial  ignorance  does  not. 


l"0  THE    GOVERNMENT    OF    GOD,  [PART   t 

for  we  mn  v  in  any  degree  be  convinced,  that  a  person  is  of 
such  a  character,  and  consequently  will  pursue  such  ends, 
though  \\e  are  greatly  ignorant  \vhal  is  ihe  proper  way  oi 
ficiing,  in  order  ihe  most  effectually  to  obtain  those  ends; 
and  in  ihis  rase,  objections  against  his  manner  of  acting,  as 
seemingly  not  conducive  to  obtain  them,  might  be  anc  ver- 
ed  by  our  ignorance,  though  ihe  proof  that  such  ends  were 
intended,  might  not  at  all  be  invalidated  by  it.  Thus,  tho 
proof  of  religion  is  a  proof  of  the  moral  character  of  God, 
and.  consequently,  that  his  government  is  moral,  and  that 
every  one,  upon  the  whole,  shall  receive  according  to  his 
deserts;  a  proof  that  this  is  the  designed  end  of  his  gover- 
laent.  But  we  arc  not  competent  judges  what  is  the  proper 
way  of  acting,  in  order  the  most  effectually  to  accomplish 
this  end.  Therefore  our  ignorance  is  an  answer  to  objec- 
tions against  the  conduct  of  Providence,  in  permitting  irregu- 
larities, as  seeming  contradictory  to  this  end.  Now,  since 
it  is  so  obvious  that  our  ignorance  may  be  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer 10  objections  against  a  thing,  and  yet  not  affect  the 
proof  of  it ;  till  it  can  be  shown,  it  is  frivolous  to  assert,  that 
our  ignorance  invalidates  the  proof  of  religion,  as  it  does  the 
objections  against  it. 

tjecundly,  Suppose  unknown  impossibilities,  and  unknown 
relations,  might  justly  be  urged  tc  invalidate  the  proof  of  re- 
ligion, as  well  as  to  answer  objections  against  it,  and  lhat, 
i:i  consequence  of  this,  the  proof  of  it  were  doubtful;  yet 
still,  let  the  assertion  be  despised,  or  let  it  be  ridiculed,  it  is 
undeniably  true,  that  moral  obligations  would  remain  cer- 
tain, though  it  were  not  certain  what  would,  upoi.  the 
wru,'!i,  be  the  consequences  of  observing  or  violating  them. 
For  these  obligations  arise  immediately  and  necessarily  fr  jm 
the  judgment  of  our  own  mind,  unless  perverted,  which  we 
caniMt  violate  without  being  self-condemned.  And  they 
would  be  --criain,  loo,  from  considerations  of  interest.  For, 
though  it  were  doubtful  whut  will  be  the  future  consequen- 
ces of  virtue  and  vice,  yet  it  is  however  credible,  that  ihty 
may  have  those  consequences  which  religion  teaches  us 
they  will ;  and  this  credibility  is  a  certain  obligation  hi 
point  of  prudence,  to  abstain  from  all  wickedness,  and  tc  live 
in  the  conscientious  practice  of  all  lhat  is  good.  But, 

Thirdly,  The  answers  above  given  to  the  objections  against 
religion,  cannot  equally  be  made  use  of  to  invalidate  the 


CHAP.    VII.]      A    SCHEME    INCOMPREHENSIBLE.  131 

proof  of  it.  For,  upon  supposition  that  God  exercises  a 
moral  government  Oi'er  the  world,  analogy  does  most  strong- 
ly lead  u-?  to  conclude,  that  this  moral  government  must  be 
a  scheme,  or  constitution,  beyond  our  comprehension.  And 
a  thousand  particular  analogies  show  us,  that  parts  of  such 
a  scheme,  from  their  relation  to  other  parts,  may  conduce  to 
accomplish  ends,  which  we  should  have  thought  they  had 
no  tendency  at  all  to  accomplish ;  nay,  ends,  which,  before 
experience,  we  should  have  thought  such  parts  were  contra- 
dictory to,  and  had  a  tendency  to  prevent.  And,  therefore, 
all  these  analogies  show,  that  the  way  of  arguing  made  use 
of  in  objecting  against  religion,  is  delusive ;  because  they 
show  it  is  not  at  all  incredible,  that,  could  we  comprehend 
the  whole,  we  should  find  the  permission  of  the  disorders 
objected  against,  to  be  consistent  with  justice  and  goodness, 
and  even  io  be  instances  of  them.  Now  this  is  not  applica- 
ble to  the  proof  of  religion,  as  it  is  to  the  objections  against 
it ;  and  therefore  cannot  invalidate  that  proof,  as  it  does 
these  objections. 

Lastly,  From  the  observations  now  made,  it  is  easy  to 
see,  that  the  answers  above  given  to  the  objections  against 
Providence,  though,  in  a  general  way  of  speaking,  they  may 
be  said  to  be  taken  from  our  ignorance,  yet  are  by  no  means 
taken  rw rely  from  that,  but  from  somewhat  which  analogy 
shows  us  concerning  it.  For  analogy  shows  us  positively, 
that  our  ignorance  in  the  possibilities  of  things,  and  the  vari 
ous  relations  in  nature,  renders  us  incompetent  judges,  and 
leads  us  to  false  conclusions,  in  cases  similar  to  this,  in  which 
uc  pretend  to  judge  and  to  object.  So  that  the  things  above 
insisted  upon,  are  net  mere  suppositions  of  unknown  impos- 
sibilities and  relations  ;  but  they  are  suggested  to  our 
thoughts,  and  even  forced  upon  the  observations  of  serious 
men,  and  rendered  credible,  too,  by  the  analogy  of  nature. 
And,  therefore,  to  take  these  things  into  the  account,  is  to 
judgi  by  experience,  and  what  we  do  know  j  and  it  is  not 
judging  so,  to  take  no  notice  of  them. 
9 


CONCLUSION. 


THE  observations  of  the  last  chapter  lead  us  to  consider 
this  little  scene  of  human  life,  in  which  we  are  so  busily  en- 
gaged, as  having  reference,  of  some  sort  or  other,  to  a  much 
larger  plan  of  things.  Whether  we  are  any  way  related  to 
{he  more  distant  parts  of  the  boundless  universe  into  which 
we  are  brought,  is  altogether  uncertain.  But  it  is  evident, 
that  the  course  of  things  which  comes  within  our  view,  is 
connected  with  somewhat  past,  present,  and  future  beyond 
it.  So  that  we  are  placed,  as  one  may  speak,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  scheme,  not  a  fixed,  but  a  progressive  one,  every  way 
incomprehensible  ;  incomprehensible,  in  a  manner,  equally 
with  respect  to  what  has  been,  what  now  is,  and  what  snal? 
be  hereafter.  And  this  scheme  cannot  but  contain  in  it  some- 
what as  wonderful,  and  as  much  beyond  our  thought  and 
conception,!  as  any  thing  in  that  of  religion.  For,  will  any 
man  in  his  senses  say,  that  it  is  less  difficult  to  conceive  how 
the  world  came  to  be,  and  continued  as  it  is,  without,  than 
with,  an  intelligent  Author  and  Governor  of  it  ?  admitting 
an  intelligent  Governor  of  it,  that  there  is  some  other  rule  of 
government  more  natural,  and  of  easier  conception,  than  that 
which  we  call  moral  ?  Indeed,  without  an  intelligent  Au- 
thor and  Governor  of  nature,  no  account  at  all  can  be  given, 
how  this  universe,  or  the  part  of  it  particularly  in  which  we 
are  concerned,  came  to  be,  and  the  course  of  it  to  be  carried 
on,  as  it  is  ;  nor  any  of  its  general  end  and  design,  without 
a  moral  Governor  of  it.  That  there  is  an  intelligent  Author 
of  nature  and  natural  Governor  of  the  world,  is  a  principle 
gone  upon  in  the  foregoing  treatise,  as  proved,  and  generally 
known  and  confessed  to  be  proved.  And  the  very  notion  of 
and  intelligent  Author  of  nature,  proved  by  particular  final 

t  SM  fttft  U.  ofaaft,  9. 


134  CONCLUSION.  [FART.  i. 

causes,  implies  a  will  and  a  character.  Now,  as  our  whole 
nature,  the  nature  which  he  has  given  us,  leads  us  to  con- 
clude his  will  i.nd  character  to  be  moral,  just,  and  good  ;  so 
we  can  scarce  in  imagination  conceive,  what  it  can  be  other- 
wise. However,  in  consequence  of  this  his  will  and  charac- 
ter, whatever  it  be,  he  formed  the  universe  as  it  is,  and  car. 
lies  on  the  course  of  it  as  he  does,  rather  than  in  any  other 
manner  ;  and  has  assigned  to  us,  and  to  all  living  creatures, 
a  part  and  a  lot  in  it.  Irrational  crealures  act  this  their  part, 
and  enjoy  and  undergo  the  pleasures  and  the  pains  allotted 
them,  without  any  reflection.  But  one  would  think  it  im 
possible,  that  creatures  endued  with  reason  could  avoid  re- 
flecting sometimes  upon  all  this  ;  reflecting,  if  not  from 
whence  we  came,  yet,  at  least,  whither  we  are  going,  and 
what  the  mysterious  scheme  in  the  midst  of  which  we  find 
ourselves,  will  at  length  come  out  and  produce  j  a  scheme 
in  which  it  is  certain  we  are  highly  interested,  and  in  which 
we  may  be  interested  even  beyond  conception.  For  many 
things  prove  it  palpably  absurd  to  conclude,  that  we  shal] 
cease  to  be  at  death.  Particular  analogies  do  most  sensibly 
show  us,  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  thought  strange  in  our 
being  to  exist  in  another  state  of  life.  And  that  we  are  now 
living  beings,  affords  a  strong  probability  that  w^e  shall  con- 
tinue so  ;  unless  there  be  some  positive  ground,  and  there  is 
none  from  reason  or  analogy,  to  think  death  will  destroy  us. 
Were  a  persuasion  of  this  kind  ever  so  well  grounded,  there 
would,  surely,  be  little  reason  to  take  pleasure  in  it.  But, 
indeed,  it  can  have  no  other  ground  than  some  such  imagina- 
tion, as  that  of  our  gross  bodies  being  ourselves  ;  which  ia 
contrary  to  experience.  Experience,  too,  most  clearly  shows 
us  the  folly  cf  concluding,  from  the  body  and  the  living  agent, 
affecting  each  other  mutually,  that  the  dissolution  of  the 
former  is  the  destruction  of  the  latter.  And  there  are  remark- 
able instances  of  their  not  affecting  each  other,  which  lead 
us  to  a  contrary  conclusion.  The  supposition,  then,  which 
in  all  reason  we  are  to  go  upon,  is,  that  our  living  nature 
will  continue  after  death.  And  it  is  infinitely  unreasonable 
to  form  an  institution  of  life,  or  to  act  upon  any  other  suppo- 
sition. ^Now,  all  expectation  of  immortality,  whether  more 
or  less  certain,  opens  an  unbounded  prospect  to  our  hopes 
and  our  fears ;  since  we  see  the  constitution  of  nature  is  such 
as  to  admit  of  mieery,  as  well  as  to  be  productive  of  happi- 


TART.  I.J  CONCLUSION.  135 

ness,  and  experience  ourselves  to  partake  of  both  in  some 
decree ;  and  since  we  cannot  but  know  what  higher  degrees 
of  both  we  are  capable  of.  And  there  is  no  presumption 
against  believing  farther,  that  our  future  interest  depends 
upon  our  present  behaviour  ;  for  we  see  our  present  interest 
doth ;  and  that  the  happiness  and  misery,  which  are  natural- 
ly annexed  to  our  actions,  very  frequently  do  not  folio v  till 
long  after  the  actions  arc  done  to  which  they  are  respective- 
ly annexed.  So  that,  were  speculation  to  leave  us  uncer- 
tain, whether  it  were  likely  that  the  Author  of  nature,  in 
giving  happiness  and  misery  to  his  creatures,  hath  regard  to 
their  actions  or  not ;  yet,  since  we  find  by  experience  that 
he  hath  such  regard,  the  whole  sense  of  things  -which  he 
has  given  us,  plainly  leads  us,  at  once,  and  without  any 
elaborate  inquiries,  to  think  that  it  may,  indeed  must,  be  to 
good  actions  chiefly  that  he  hath  annexed  happiness,  and  to 
bad  actions  misery  ;  or  that  he  will,  upon  the  whole,  reward 
those  who  do  well,  and  punish  those  who  do  evil.  To  con- 
firm this  from  the  constitution  of  the  world,  it  has  been  ob- 
served, that  some  sort  of  moral  government  is  necessarily 
implied  in  that  natural  government  of  God  which  we  expe- 
rience ourselves  under  ;  that  good  and  bad  actions,  at  pre- 
sent, are  naturally  rewarded  and  punished,  not  only  as  bene- 
ficial and  mischievous  to  society,  but  also  as  virtuous  and 
vicious  ;  and  that  there  is,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  a 
tendency  to  their  being  re%  urded  and  punished  in  a  much 
higher  degree  than  they  are  at  present.  And  though  this 
higher  degree  of  distributive  justice,  which  nature  thus 
points  out  and  leads  towards,  is  prevented  for  a  time  from  ta- 
king place,  it  is  by  obstacles  which  the  state  of  this  world 
unhappily  throws  in  its  way,  and  which,  therefore,  are  in 
their  nature  temporary.  Now,  as  these  things,  in  the  natu- 
ral conduct  of  Providence,  are  observable  on  the  side  of  vir- 
tue, so  there  is  nothing  to  be  set  against  them  on  the  side  of 
vice.  A  moral  scheme  of  government,  then,  is  visibly  es- 
tablished, and  in  soVne  degree  carried  into  execution  ;  and 
this,  together  with  the  essential  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice 
duly  considered,  naturally  raise  in  us  an  apprehension  that 
it  will  be  carried  on  farther  towards  perfection  in  a  future 
state,  and  that  every  one  shall  there  receive  according  to  his 
deserts.  And  if  this  be  so,  then  our  future  and  general  in- 
terest, under  the  moral  government'  of  God,  is  appointed  to 
depend  upon  our  behaviour,  notwithstanding  the  difficulty 
vhichthis  may  occasion  of  securing  it,  and  the  danger  of  lo 


130  CONCLUSION  [PART  L 

sing  it ;  just  in  the  same  manner  as  our  temporal  interest, 
under  his  natural  government,  is  appointed  to  depend  upon 
our  behaviour,  notwithstanding  the  like  difficulty  and  danger. 
For,  from  our  original  constitution,  and  that  of  the  world 
which  we  inhabit,  we  are  naturally  trusted  with  ourselves, 
with  our  own  conduct  and  our  own  interest.  And  from  the 
eamc  constitution  of  nature,  especially  joined  with  that 
course  of  things  which  is  owing  to  men,  we  have,  tempta- 
tions to  be  unfaithful  in  this  trust,  to  forfeit  this  interest,  to 
neglect  it,  and  run  ourselves  into  misery  and  ruin.  From 
these  temptations  arise  the  difficulties  of  behaving  so  as  10 
secure  our  temporal  interest,  and  the  hazard  of  behaving  so 
as  to  miscarry  in  it.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing  incredible 
in  supposing,  there  may  be  the  like  difficulty  and  hazard 
with  regard  to  that  chief  and  final  good  which  religion  lays 
before  us.  Indeed,  the  whole  account,  how  it  came  to  pass 
that  we  were  placed  in  such  a  condition  as  this,  must  be  be- 
yond our  comprehension.  But  it  is  in  part  accounted  for  by 
what  religion  teaches  us,  that  the  character  of  virtue  and 
piety  must  be  a  necessary  qualification  for  a  future  state  of 
eecurity  and  happiness,  under  the  moral  government  of  God  j 
in  like  manner,  as  some  certain  qualifications  or  other  are 
necessary  for  every  particular  condition  of  life,  under  his 
natural  government ;  and  that  the  present  state  was  inten- 
ded to  be  a  school  of  discipline,  for  improving  in  ourselves 
that  character.  Now,  this  intention  of  nature  is  rendered 
highly  credible  by  observing,  that  we  are  plainly  made  for 
improvement  of  all  kinds  ;  that  it  is  a  general  appointment 
of  Providence,  that  we  cultivate  practical  principles,  and 
form  within  ourselves  habits  of  action,  hi  order  to  become  fit 
for  what  we  were  wholly  unfit  for  before  ;  that,  in  particu- 
lar, childhood  and  youth  is  naturally  appointed  to  be  a  state 
of  discipline  for  mature  age  ;  and  that  the  present  world  ia 
peculiarly  fitted  f?r  a  state  of  moral  discipline.  And,  where- 
as objections  are  urged  against  the  whole  notion  of  moral 
government  and  a  probation  state,  from  the  opinion  of  neces< 
sity,  it  has  been  shown,  that  God  has  given  us  the  evidence, 
as  it  were,  of  experience,  that  all  objections  against  religion 
on  this  head  are  vain  and  delusive.  He  has  also,  in  his  na- 
tural government,  suggested  an  answer  to  ail  our  short  sight- 
ed objections  against  the  equity  and  goodness  of  his  mora>' 
government  ;  and,  in  general,  he  has  exemplified  to  us  the 
Alter  by  the  former. 

These  things.,  which,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  are  matter* 


CONCLUSION.  137 

of  fact,  ought,  in  all  common  sense,  to  awaken  mankind,  to 
induce  them  to  consider,  in  earnest,  their  condition,  ami  what 
they  have  to  do.  It  is  absurd, — absurd  to  the  degree  of  be- 
ing ndiclous,  if  the  subject  where  not  of  so  serious  a  kind,  for 
men  to  think  themselves  secure  in  a  vicious  life,  or  even  in 
that  immoral  thoughtlessness  which  far  the  greatest  part  of 
them  are  fallen  into.  And  the  credibility  of  religion,  aris  ng 
from  experience  and  facts  here  considered,  is  fully  suificient, 
in  reason,  to  engage  them  to  live  in  the  general  practice  cf 
all  virtue  and  piety  ;  under  the  serious  apprehension,  though 
it  should  be  mixed  with  some  doubt,*  of  a  righteous  adminis- 
tration established  in  nature,  and  a  future  judgment  in  conse- 
quence of  it ;  especially  when  we  consider,  how  very  ques- 
tionable it  is  whether  any  thing  at  all  can  be  gained  by  vice  j 
how  unquestionably  little,  as  well  as  precarious,  the  plea- 
sures and  profits  of  it  are  at  the  best,  and  how  soon  they 
must  be  parted  with  at  the  longest.  For,  in  the  deliberations 
of  reason,  concerning  what  we  are  to  pursue  and  what  to 
avoid,  as  temptations  to  any  thing  from  mere  passion  are 
supposed  out  of  the  case ;  so  inducements  to  vice  from  cool 
expectations  of  pleasure  am!  interest,  so  small,  and  uncer- 
tain, and  short,  are  really  so  insignificant,  as,  in  the  view  of 
reason,  to  Se  almost  nothing  in  themselves,  and,  in  compari- 
son with  the  importance  of  religion,  they  quite  disappear  and 
are  iosi.  Mere  passion,  indeed,  may  be  alleged,  though  not 
as  a  reason,  yet  as  an  excuse  for  a  vicious  course  of  life. 
And  how  sorry  an  excuse  it  is  will  be  manifest  by  observing; 
that  we  are  placed  in  a  condition  in  which  we  are  unavoida- 
bly inured  to  govern  our  passions,  by  being  nec?ssitated  to 
govern  them  ;  and  to  lay  ourselves  under  the  same  kind  c! 
restraints,  and  as  great  ones  loo,  from  temporal  regards,  as 
virtue  ;md  piety,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  require. 
The  plea  of  ungovernable  passion,  then,  on  the  side  of  vice, 
is  thu  poorest  of  all  things  ;  for  it  is  no  reason  ;  and  but  a 
poor  excuse.  But  the  proper  motives  to  religion,  are  tiie 
proper  proofs  of  it,  from  our  moral  nature,  from  the  presages 
of  conscience,  and  our  natural  apprehension  of  God,  under 
the  character  of  a  righteous  Governor  and  Judge  j  a  nature, 
and  conscience,  and  apprehension  give  ft  us  by  him  :  end 
from  the  confirmation  of  the  dictates  of  reason,  by  ,'tj'e  and 
immortality  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel ;  and  the  a;rai>t  oj 
God  revealed  from  heaven^  against  all  ungodliness  and  unrighte- 
ousness of  men. 

•  Part  il  chap.  6. 


THE 
ANALOGY 

OF 

RELIGION 

TO  THE 

CONSTITUTION  AND  COURSE  OF  NATURE. 

PART    II. 

OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

CHAP.  I. 

Of  the  Importance  of  Christianity. 

SOME  persons,  upon  pretence  of  the  sufficiency  of  the  light 
of  nature,  avowedly  reject  all  revelation,  as,  in  its  very  notion, 
incredible,  and  what  must  be  fictitious.  And,  indeed,  it  is 
certain  no  revelation  would  have  been  given,  had  the  light 
of  nature  been  sufficient  in  such  a  sense  as  to  render  one  not 
wanting  and  useless.  But  no  man,  in  seriousness  and  sim- 
plicity of  mind,  can  possibly  think  it  so,  who  considers  the 
state  of  religion  in  the  heathen  world  before  revelation,  and 
its  present  state  in  those  places  which  have  borrowed  no 
light  from  it ;  particularly,  the  doubtfulness  of  some  of  the 
greatest  men  concerning  things  of  the  utmost  importance,  as 
well  as  the  natural  inattention  and  ignorance  of  mankind  in 
general.  It  is  impossible  to  say  who  would  have  been  able 
to  have  reasoned  out  that  whole  system,  which  we  call  na- 
tural religion,  in  its  genuine  simplicity,  clear  of  superstition  ; 
but  there  is  certainly  no  ground  to  affirm  that  '.he  generality 
could  :  if  they  could,  there  is  no  sort  of  probability  that  they 
would.  Admitting  there  were,  they  would  highly  want  a 
P* 


140  OP    THE    IMPORTANCE          '  [PART    II. 

standing  admonition,  to  remind  them  of  it ,  and  inculcate  it 
upon  them.  And,  farther  still,  were  they  as  much  disposed 
to  attend  to  religion  as  the  better  sort  of  men  arc,  yet,  even 
upon  this  supposition,  there  would  be  various  occasions  for 
supernatural  instruction  and  asistance,  and  the  greatest  ad- 
vantages might  be  afforded  by  them.  So  that  to  say,  reve- 
lation is  a  thing  superfluous,  what  there  was  no  need*  of,  and 
what  can  be  of  no  service,  is  I  think,  to  talk  quite  wildly  and 
at  random.  Nor  would  it  be  more  extravagant  to  affirm, 
th?.t  mankind  is  so  entirely  a.t  ease  in  the  present  state,  and 
life  so  completely  happy,  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose 
our  condition  capable  of  being  in  any  respect  better. 

There  are  other  persons,  not  to  be  ranked  with  these,  who 
seem  to  be  getting  into  a  way  of  neglecting,  and,  as  it 
were,  overlooking  revelation  as  of  small  importance,  provi- 
ded natural  religion  to  be  kept  to.  With  little  regard,  either 
to  the  evidence  of  the  former,  or  to  the  objections  against  it, 
and  even  upon  supposition  of  its  truth,  '  the  only  design  of  it,' 
say  they,  '  must  be  to  establish  a  belief  of  the  moral  system 
of  nature,  and  to  enforce  the  practice  of  natural  piety  and 
virtue.  The  belief  and  practice  of  these  things  were,  perhaps, 
much  promoted  by  the  first  publication  of  Christianity  ;  but 
whether  they  are  believed  and  practised,  upon  the  evidence 
and  motives  of  nature  or  of  revelation,  is  no  great  matter.'* 
This  way  of  considering  revelation,  though  it  is  not  the  same 
with  the  former,yet  borders  nearly  upon  it  and  very  much,  at 
length,  runs  up  into  it,  and  requires  to  be  particularly  con- 
sidered, with  regard  to  the  persons  who  seem  to  be  getting 
into  this  way.  The  consideration  of  it  will,  likewise,  farther 
show  the  extravagance  of  the  former  opinion,  and  the  truth 
of  the  observations  in  answer  to  it,  just  mentioned.  And  an 
inquiry  into  the  Importance  of  Christianity,  cannot  be  ar. 
improper  introduction  to  a  treatise  concerning  the  credibility 
of  it. 

Now,  if  God  has  given  a  revelation  to  mankind,  and  com- 
manded those  things  which  are  commanded  in  Christianity, 
it  is  evident,  at  first  sight,  that  it  cannot  in  any  wise  be  an 
indifferent  matter,  whether  we  obey  or  disobey  those  com- 

*  Invenis  multos propterea  nolle  fieri  Christianos,  quia  quasi  suffi 

ciunt  sibi  de  bona  vita  sua.  Bcne  vivere  opus  cst,  ait.  Q,uid  mihi  pnB 
oepturus  est  Chri^tus'?  Tit  heneviva.m7  Jam  bene  vivo,  Quid  mihi 
neceasarius  est  Cnristus  1  Nullum  homicidium,  nullum  furtum,  nulhno 
rapinam  facio,  res  alienas  non  concupisco,  nullo  adulterio  contaminor.  Nam 
inveniatur  in  vita  mea  aliquid  quod  reprehendatur,  et  qui  reprehcnderit  fa 
ciat  Christian  urn.— Aug.  in  Psqlm  XXIL 


PART  II. J  OP    CHRISTIANITY  HI 

mands,  unless  we  are  certainly  assured,  that  we  know  all 
ihe  reasons  for  them,  and  that  all  those  reasons  are  now 
cea?ed,  with  regard  to  mankind  in  general,  or  'to  ourselves 
in  particular.  And  it  is  absolutely  impossible  we  can  be 
assured  of  this  ;  for  our  ignorance  of  these  reasons  proves 
nothing  in  the  :ase,  since  the  whole  analogy  of  nature  shows, 
what  is  indeed  in  itself  evident,  that  there  may  be  infinite 
reasons  for  things,  with  which  we  are  not  acquainted. 

But  the  importance  of  Christianky  will  more  distinctly 
appear,  by  considering  it  more  distinctly:  First,  As  a  re- 
publication,  and  external  institution,  of  natural  or  essential 
religion,  adapted  to  the  present  circumstances  of  mankind, 
and  intended  to  promote  natural  piety  and  virtue  ;  and  se- 
condly, As  containing  an  account  of  a  dispensation  of  things, 
not  liscoverable  by  reason,  in  consequence  of  which  several 
distinct  precepts  are  enjoined  us.  For,  though  natural  reli- 
gion is  the  foundation  and  principal  part  of  Christianity,  it  ia 
not  in  any  sense  the  whole  of  it. 

1.  Christianity  is  a  republication  of  natural  religion.  It 
instructs  mankind  in  the  moral  system  of  the  world  ;  that  it 
is  the  work  of  an  infinitely  perfect  Being,  and  under  his  go- 
vernment ;  that  virtue  is  his  law  ;  and  that  he  will  finally 
judge  mankind  in  righteousness,  and  render  to  all  according 
to  their  works,  in  a  future  state.  And,  which  is  very  mate- 
rial, it  teaches  natural  religion  in  its  genuine  simplicity,  free 
from  those  superstitions  with  which  it  was  totally  corrupted, 
and  under  which  it  was  in  a  manner  lost. 

Revelation  is,  farther,  an  authoritative  publication  of  na- 
tural religion,  and  so  affords  the  evidence  of  testimony  for 
the  truth  of  it.  Indeed,  the  miracles  and  prophecies  record- 
ed in  Scripture,  were  intended  to  prove  a  particular  dispensa- 
tion of  Providence — the  redemption  of  the  world  by  the  Mes- 
siah ;  but  this  does  not  hinder  but  that  they  may  also  prove 
God's  general  providence  over  the  world,  as  our  Moral  Go- 
vernor and  Judge.  And  they  evidently  do  prove  it ;  bc~ 
cause  this  character  of  the  Author  of  nature  is  necessarily 
contacted  with  and  implied  in  that  particular  revealed  dis- 
pensation of  things  ;  it  is  likewise  continually  taught  ex- 
pressly, and  insisted  upon,  by  those  persons  who  wrought 
the  miracles  and  delivered  the  prophecies.  So  that,  indeed, 
natural  religion  seems  as  much  proved  by  the  Scripture  reve- 
lation, as  it  would  have  been,  had  the  design  of  revelation 
been  nothing  else  than  to  prove  it. 

But  it  may  possibly  be  disputed,  how  far  miracles  cap 


142  OF    TKE    IMPORTANCE  [_PART  II. 

prove  natural  religion ;  and  notable  objections  may  be  urged 
against  this  proof  of  it,  considered  as  a  matter  of  specula- 
tion ;  but,  considered  as  a  practical  thing,  there  can  be  none. 
For,  suppose  a  person  to  teach  natural  religion  to  a  nation 
wbo  had  lived  in  total  ignorance  or  forgetfulness  of  it,  and 
to  declare  he  was  commissioned  by  God  so  to  do  ;  suppose 
him,  in  proof  of  his  commission,  to  foretell  things  future, 
which  no  human  foresight  could  have  guessed  at ;  to  divide 
the  sea  with  a  word  ;  feed  great  multitudes  with  bread  from 
heaven  ;  cure  all  manner  of  diseases ;  and  raise  the  dead, 
even  himself,  to  life  ; — would  not  this  give  additional  credi 
bility  to  his  teaching,  a  credibility  beyond  what  that  of  ;i 
common  man  would  have,  and  be  an  authoritative  publica- 
tion of  the  law  of  nature,  i  e.  a  new  proof  of  it  ?  It  would 
be  a  practical  one,  of  the  strongest  kind,  perhaps,  which  hu- 
man creatures  are  capable  of  having  given  them.  The  law 
of  Moses,  then,  and  the  gospel  of  Christ,  are  authoritative 
publications  of  the  religion  of  nature  :  they  afford  a  proof  of 
God's  general  providence,  as  moral  Governor  of  the  world, 
as  well  as  of  his  particular  dispensations  of  Providence  to- 
wards sinful  creatures,  revealed  in  the  law  of  the  gospel. 
As  they  are  the  only  evidence  of  the  latter,  so  they  are  an 
additional  evidence  of  the  former. 

To  show  this  further,  let  us  suppose  a  man  of  the  great- 
est and  most  improved  capacity,  who  had  never  heard  of 
revelation,  convinced  upon  the  whole,  notwithstanding  the 
disorders  of  the  world,  that  it  was  under  the  direction  and 
moral  government  of  an  infinitely  perfect  Being,  but  ready 
to  question,  whether  he  were  not  got  beyond  the  reach  of  his 
faculties  ;  suppose  him  brought,  by  this  suspicion,  into  great 
danger  of  being  carried  away  by  the  universal  bad  example 
of  almost  every  one  around  him,  who  appeared  to  have  no 
sense,  no  practical  sense  at  least,  of  these  things  ;  and  this 
perhaps,  would  be  as  advantageous  a  situation,  with  regard 
to  religion,  as  nature  alone  ever  placed  any  man  in.  What 
•a  confirmation  now  must  it  be  to  such  a  person,  all  at  once 
tn  find,  that  this  moral  system  of  things  was  revealed  to 
mankind,  in  the  name  of  that  infinite  Being  whom  he  had, 
from  principles  of  reason,  believed  in  ;  and  that  the  publish 
ers  of  the  revelation  proved  their  commission  from  him,  by 
making  it  appear  that  he  had  intrusted  them  with  a  power 
of  suspending  and  changing  the  general  laws  of  nature  ! 

Nor  must  it,  by  any  means,  be  omitted  j  for  it  is  a  thing 
of  the  utmost  importance,  that  life  and  immortality  are  em 


CHAP.  l.]J  OF    CHRISTIANITY.  143 

iuently  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel.  The  great  doctrines 
of  a  future  state,  the  danger  of  a  course  of  wickedness,  and 
the  efficacy  of  repentance,  are  not  only  confirmed  in  tht;  gos- 
pel, but  are  taught,  especially  the  last  is,  with  a  degree  of 
light ;  to  which  that  of  nature  is  but.  darkness. 

Farther :  As  Christianity  served  these  ends  and  purposes, 
when  it  was  first  published,  by  the  miraculous  publication  it- 
self, so  it  was  intended  to  serve  the  same  purposes,  in  future 
agi;s,  by  means  of  the  settlement  of  a  visible  church  ;  of  a  so- 
ciety, distinguished  from  common  ones,  and  from  the  rest  of 
the  world,  by  peculiar  religious  institutions  ;  by  an  instituted 
method  of  instruction,  and  an  instituted  form  of  external  re- 
Jigion.  Miraculous  powers  were  given  to  the  first  preachers 
o.  Christianity,  in  order  to  their  introducing  it  into  the  world  ; 
a  visible  church  was  established,  in  order  to  continue  it,  and 
carry  it  on  successively  throughout  all  ages.  Had  Moses 
and  the  Prophets,  Christ  and  his  Apostles,  only  taught,  and 
by  miracles  proved,  religion  totheircontemporariesthe  benefits 
of  their  instructions  would  have  reached  but  to  a  small  part 
of  mankind.  Christianity  must  have  been,  in  a  great  de- 
gree, sunk  and  forgot  in  a  very  few  ages.  To  prevent  this 
appears  to  have  been  one  reason  why  a  visible  church  was 
instituted  ;  to  be,  like  a  citj"  upon  a  hill,  a  standing  memo- 
rial to  the  world  of  the  duty  which  we  owe  our  Maker  ;  to 
call  men  continually,  both  by  example  and  instruction,  to  at- 
tend to  it,  and,  by  the  form  of  religion  ever  before  thoir  eyes, 
remind  them  of  the  reality  ;  to  be  the  repository  of  the  ora- 
cles of  God  ;  to  hold  up  the  light  of  revelation  in  aid  to  thai 
of  nature,  and  propagate  it.  throughout  ali  generations  to 
the  end  of  the  world — the  light  of  revelation,  considered 
here  in  no  other  view,  than  as  designed  to  enforce  natural  re- 
ligion. And,  in  proportion  as  Christianity  is  professed  and 
taught  in  the  world,  religion,  natural  or  essential  religion,  is 
thus  distinctly  and  advantageously  laid  before  mankind,  and 
brought  again  and  again  to  their  thoughts,  as  a  mailer  of 
infinite  importance.  A  visible  church  has  also  a  farther  ten.- 
dency  to  promote  natural  religion,  as  being  an  instituted 
method  of  education,  originally  intended  to  be  of  more  pecul- 
iar advantage  to  those  who  would  conform  to  it.  For  one 
end  of  the  institution  was,  that,  by  admonition  and  reproof, 
as  well  as  instruction  ;  by  a  general  regular  discipline,  and 
public  exercises  of  religion,  the  body  of  ^/irisf,  as  the  Scrip- 
ture speaks,  should  be  edified;  i.  e.  trained  up  in  piety  and 
rirtue,  foi  a  higher  and  a  better  state.  This  settlement  then, 


144  OF    THE    IMPORTANCE  [PART    H 

appearing  thus  beneficial ;  tending,  in  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  to  answer,  and  in  some  degree  actually  answering, 
those  ends ;  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  the  very  notion  of 
it  implies  positive  institutions  ;  for  the  visibility  of  the  church 
consists  in  them.  Take  away  every  thing  of  this  kind,  and 
you  lose  the  very  notion  itself.  So  that,  jf  the  things  now 
mentioned  are  advantages,  the  reason  and  importance  of 
positive  institutions  in  general  is  most  obvious  ;  since  with- 
out them,  these  advantages  could  not  be  secured  to  the  world 
And  it  is  mere  idle  wantonness,  to  insist  upon  knowing  the 
reasons  why  such  particular  ones  were  fixed  upon  rather 
than  others.  « 

The  benefit  arising  from  this  supernatural  assistance, 
which  Christianity  affords  to  natural  religion,  is  what  some 
persons  are  very  slow  in  apprehending  ;  and  yet  i'  is  a  thing 
distinct  in  itself,  and  a  very  plain  obvious  one.  For  will 
any,  in  good  earnest,  really  say,  that  the  bulk  of  mankind 
in  the  heathen  world  were  in  as  advantageous  a  situation, 
with  regard  to  natural  religion,  as  they  are  now  amongst 
us  ?  that  it  was  laid  before  them,  and  enforced  upon  them, 
in  a  manner  as  distinct,  and  as  much  tending  to  influence 
their  practice  1 

The  objections  against  all  this,  from  the  perversion  of 
Christianitj7,  and  from  the  supposition  of  its  having  had  but 
little  good  influence,  however  innocently  they  may  be  pro- 
posed, yet  cannot  be  insisted  upon  as  conclusive,  upon  any 
principles  but  such  as  lead  to  downright  atheism  ;  because 
the  manifestation  of  the  law  of  nature  by  reason,  which,  up- 
on all  principles  of  theism,  must  have  been  from  God,  has  been 
perverted  and  rendered  ineffectual  in  the  same  manner.  It 
may  indeed,  I  think,  truly  be  said  that  the  good  effects  ot 
Christianity  have  not  been  small ;  nor  its  supposed  ill  effects 
at  all  of  it,  properly  speaking.  Perhaps,  too,  the  things 
themselves  done  have  been  aggravated  ;  and  if  not,  Chris- 
tianity  hath  been  often  only  a  pretence  ;  and  the  same  evils, 
in  the  main,  would  have  besn  done  upon  some  other  pretence. 
However,  great  and  shocking  as  the  corruptions  and  abuses 
of  it  have  really  been,  they  cannot  be  insisted  upon  as  argu- 
ments against  it,  upon  principles  of  theism.  For  one  can- 
not proceed  one  step  in  reasoning  upon  natural  religion,  any 
more  than  upon  Christianity,  without  laying  it  down  as  a 
first  principle,  that  the  dispensations  of  Providence  are  not 
to  be  judged  of  by  their  perversions,  but  by  their  genuine 
tendencies  -}  not  by  what  they  do  actually  seem  to  effect,  but 


C1IAP.   I.]  OF    CHRISTIANITY.  14.* 

by  what  they  would  effect  if  mankind  did  th  :ir  part,  thai 
part  which  is  justly  put  and  left  upon  them.  It  is  altogeth- 
er as  much  the  language  of  one,  as  of  the  other  :  He  thai 
is  unjust,  let  him  be  unjust  still ;  and  he  that  is  holy,  lei  hi*n  lit 
holy  still*  The  light  of  reason  does  not,  any  more  than 
rtiat  of  revelation,  force  men  to  submit  to  its' authority  :  both 
admonish  them  of  what  they  ought  to  do  and  avoid,  togeth- 
er with  the  consequences  of  each  ;  and,  after  this,  leave 
them  at  full  liberty  to  act  just  as  they  please,  till  the  appoin- 
ted time  of  judgment.  Every  moment's  experience  shows, 
chat  this  is  God's  general  rule  of  government. 

To  return,  then :  Christianity  being  a  promulgation  of  the 
'aw  of  nature  ;  being,  moreover,  an  authoritative  promulga- 
tion of  it,  with  new  light  and  other  circumstances  of  pecu- 
iar  advantage,  adapted  to  the  wants  of  mankind  ;  these 
hings  fully  show  its  importance.  And  it  is  to  be  observed 
i  art  her  that  as  the  nature  of  the  case  requires,  so  all  Chris- 
ilans  are  commanded  to  contribute,  by  their  profession  of 
Christianity,  to  preserve  it  in  the  world,  and  render  it  such 
&.  promulgation  and  enforcement  of  religion.  For  it  is  the 
very  scheme  of  the  gospel,  that  each  Christian  should,  in 
his  degree,  contribute  towards  continuing  and  carrying  it  on ; 
aD  by  uniting  in  the  public  profession,  and  external  practice 
of  Christianity  ;  some  by  instructing,  by  having  the  over- 
sight, and  taking  care  of  this  .religious  community,  the 
Church  of  God.  Now  this  farther  shows  the  importance 
of  Christianity,  and,  which  i»  what  I  chiefly  intend,  its  im- 
portance in  a  practical  sense,  or  the  high  obligations  we  are 
under,  to  take  it  into  our  most  serious  consideration :  and  the 
danger  there  must  necessarily  be,  not  only  in  treating  it 
despitefully,  which  I  am  not  now  speaking  of,  but  in  disre- 
garding and  neglecting  it.  For  this  is  neglecting  to  do 
what  is  expressly  enjoined  us,  for  continuing  those  benefits 
to  the  world,  and  transmitting  them  down  to  future  times. 
And  all  this  holds,  even  though  the  only  thing  to  be  consi- 
dered in  Christianity  were  its  subserviency  to  natural  reli- 
gion. But, 

II.  Christianity  is  to  be  considered  in  a  further  view,  as 
containing  an  account  of  a  dispensation  of  things,  not  at  all 
discoverable  by  reason,  in  consequence  of  which  several  dis-  . 
tinct  precepts  are  enjoined  us.     Christianity  is  not  only 
on  external  institution  of  natural  religion,  and  a  new  pro- 

*  Rev.  xxii.  11. 

1 


146  OF    THE    IMPORTANCE  [PART  II 


God's  general  providence,  as  righteous  Gover* 
nor  and  Judge  of  the  world  ;  but  it  contains  also  a  revelation 
of  a  particular  dispensation  of  Providence,  carrying  on  by 
his  Son  and  Spirit,  for  the  recovery  and  salvation  of  mankind, 
who  are  represented,  in  Scripture,  to  be  in  a  state  of  rum. 
A  nd,  in  consequence  of  this  revelation  being  made,  we  s;c 
commanded  to  be  baptized,  not  only  in  the  name  of  the  Fathtr, 
b  it  also  of  the  Son,  and  of  (he  Holy  Ghost  ;  and  other  obliga- 
lions  of  duty,  unknown  before,  to  the  Son  and  the  Holy 
GhiHt,  are  revealed.  Now,  the  importance  of  these  duties 
may  be  judged  of,  by  observing  that  they  arise,  not  from 
positive  command  merely,  but  also  from  the  offices  which 
appear,  from  Scripture,  to  belong  to  those  divine  persons  in 
the  gospel  dispensation,  or  from  the  relations  which,  we  are 
there  informed,  they  stand  in  »o  us.  By  reason  is  revealed 
the  relation  which  God  the  Father  stands  in  to  us.  Hence 
arises  the  obligation  of  duty  which  we  are  under  to  him.  In 
Scripture  are  revealed  the  relations  which  the  Son  and  Holy 
Spirit  stand  in  to  us.  Hence  arise  the  obligations  of  duty 
which  we  are  under  to  them.  The  truth  of  the  case,  as  one 
may  speak,  in  each  of  these  three  respects,  being  admitted, 
that  God  is  the  Governor  of  the  World,  upon  the  evidence  of 
reason  ;  that  Christ  is  the  Mediator  between  God  and  man, 
and  the  Holy  Ghost  our  Guide  and  Sanctifier,  upon  the  evi- 
dence of  revelation  :  the  truth  of  the  case,  I  say,  in  each  of 
Ihese  respects,  being  admitted,  it  is  no  more  a  question,  why 
it  shouU  be  commanded  that  we  be  baptized  in  the  name  of 
the  Son  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  than  that  we  be  baptized  in 
the  name  of  the  Father.  This  matter  seems  to  require  to 
be  more  fully  stated.* 

Let  it  be  remembered,  then,  that,  religion  comes  under  the 
twofold  consideration  of  internal  and  external  ;  for  the  latter 
is  as  real  a  part  of  religion,  of  true  religion,  as  the  former. 
Now,  when  religion  is  considered  under  the  first  notion  as 
an  inward  principle,  to  be  exerted  in  such  and  such  inward 
acts  of  the  mind  and  heart,  the  essence  of  natural  religion 
may  be  said  to  consist  in  religious  regards  to  God  the  Path® 
Almighty  ;  and  the  essence  of  revealed  religion,  as  distin 
puiahcfl  fro.n  natural,  to  consist  in  religious  regards  to  tht 
So.t,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  the  obligation  we  are  un 
ior,  of  paying  these  religious  regards  to  each  of  there  di 

*  See  the  Nature,  Obligation,  and  Efficacy,  of  the  Christian  Sacra 
mcuts,  &c.  and  Coliiber  oa  Revealed  religion,  as  there  quoted. 


tHAP.    I.]  OF    CHRISTIANITY.  147 

vine  persons  respectively,  arises  from  the  respective  relations 
which  they  each  stand  in  to  us.  How  these  relations  are 
made  kno'.vn,  whether  by  reason  or  revelation,  makes  no  al- 
teration in  the  case  ;  because  the  duties  arise  out  of  the  rela- 
tions themselves,  not  out  of  the  manner  in  which  \ve  arn  in- 
formed of  them.  The  Son  and  Spirit  have  each  his  proper 
office  in  that  great  dispensation  of  Providence,  ihe  redemp- 
tion of  the  world  ;  the  one  our  JYlediator,  the  other  our  Sane- 
lifter.  Does  not,  then,  the  duty  of  religious  regards  to  both 
these  divine  persons,  as  immediately  arise,  to  the  view  of 
reason,  out  of  the  very  nature  of  these  offices  and  relations, 
as  the  inward  good  will  and  kind  attention,  which  we  owe  to 
our  fellow-creatures,  arises  out  of  the  common  relations  be- 
tween us  and  them  ?  But  it  will  be  asked,  '  Whn.t  are  the 
inward  religious  regards,  appearing  thus  obviously  due  tc  the 
Son  and  Holy  Spirit,  as  arising,  not  merely  from  command 
in  Scripture,  but  from  the  very  nature  of  the  revealed  rela- 
tions which  they  stand  in  to  us  ?'  I  answer,  the  religious 
regards  of  reverence,  honor,  love,  trust,  gratitude,  fear.  hope. 
In  what  external  manner  this  inward  worship  is  to  be  ex- 
pressed, is  a  matter  of  pure  revealed  command  ;  as  perhaps 
the  external  manner  in  which  God  the  Father  is  to  be  wor- 
shipped, may  be  more  so  than  we  are  ready  to  think  ;  but 
the  worship,  the  internal  worship  itself,  to  the  Son  and  Ho- 
ly Ghost,  is  no  farther  matter  of  pure  revealed  command, 
than  as  the  relations  they  stand  in  to  us.  are  matter  of  pure 
revelation  ;  for  the  relations  being  known,  the  obligations  to 
such  internal  worship  are  obligations  of  reason,  arising  out 
of  those  relations  themselves.  In  short,  the  histoiy  of  the 
gospel  as  immediately  shows  us  the  reason  of  these  obliga- 
tions, as  it  shows  us  the  meaning  of  the  words,  Son  and  Ho- 
ly Ghost. 

If  this  account  of  the  Christian  religion  be  just,  those  por- 
sons  whocan  speak  lightly  of  it,  as  of  little  consequence,  provi- 
ded natural  religion  be  kept  to,  plainly  forget,  that  Chris- 
tianity, even  what  is  peculiarly  so  called,  as  distinguished 
fr  >m  natural  religion,  has  yet  somewhat  very  important,  cvoi. 
of  ft  fnora!  nature.  For  the  office  of  our  Lord  being  made  known, 
and  the  relation  he  stands  in  to  us,  the  obligation  of  religious 
regards  to  him  is  plainly  moral,  as  much  as  charily  to  man- 
kind is  ;  sincu  this  obligation  arises,  before  extern;!]  com- 
mand, immediately  out  of  that  his  office  and  relation  itself 
Those  persons  appear  to  forget,  that  revelation  is  to  be  con- 
•idered  as  informing  us  of  somewhat  new  in  the  sta'e  of  ir.an- 


148  OF    THE    IMPORTANCE  [PART    IL 

kind,  and  in  the  government  of  the  world  ;  as  acquainting  us 
with  some  relations  \ve  stand  in,  which  could  not  otherwise 
have  been  known.  And  these  relations  being  real,  (though 
before  revelation  we  could  be  under  no  obligations  from  them, 
yet  upon  their  being  revealed,)  tnere  is  no  reason  to  think, but 
that  neglect  of  behaving  suitab.y  to  them  will  be  attended 
with  the  same  kind  of  consequences  under  God's  government, 
a?  neglecting  to  behave  suitably  to  any  other  relations  made 
known  to  us  by  reason.  And  ignorance,  whether  unavoida- 
ble or  voluntary,  so  far  as  we  can  possibly  see,  will,  just  as 
much,  and  just  as  little,  excuse  in  one  case  as  in  the  other: 
the  ignorance  being  supjosed  equally  unavoidable,  07 
equally  voluntary,  in  both  cases. 

If,  therefore,  Christ  be  indeed  the  Mediator  between  God 
and  axan,  i.  e.  if  Christianity  be  true  ;  if  he  be  indeed  our 
Lord,  our  Saviour,  and  our  God,  no  one  can  say  what  may 
follow,  not  only  the  obstinate,  but  the  careless,  disregard  to 
him  in  those  high  relations.  Naj7,  no  one  can  say  wha 
may  follow  such  disregard,  even  in  the  way  of  natural  con- 
sequence. For,  as  the  natural  consequences  of  vice  in  this 
life  are  doubtless  to  be  considered  as  judicial  punishments 
inflicted  by  God,  so  likewise,  for  aught  we  know,  the  judicial 
punishments  of  the  future  life  may  be,  in  a  like  way,  or  a 
like  sense,  the  natural  consequence  of  vice  ;f  of  men's  vio- 
lating or  disregarding  the  relations  which  God  has  placed 
them  in  here,  and  made  known  to  them. 

Again,  If  mankind  are  corrupted  and  depraved  in  their 
moral  character,  and  so  are  unfit  for  that  state  which  Christ 
is  gone  to  prepare  for  his  disciples  ;  and  if  the  assistance  of 
God's  Spirit  be  necessary  to  renew  their  nature,  in  a  degree 
requisite  to  their  being:  qualified  for  that  state  ;  all  which  is 
implied  in  the  express,  though  figurative,  declaration,  Ex. 
cept  a  man  be  born  of  (he  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  king- 
dom  of  God :+  supposing  this,  is  it  possible  any  serious  per- 
son ( an  think  it  a  slight  matter,  whether  or  no  he  makes 
use  of  the  means,  expressly  commanded  by  God,  for  obtain- 
ing this  divine  assistance  1  especially  since  the  whole  analo- 
gy of  nature  shows,  that  we  are  not  to  expect  any  benefits 
without  making  use  of  the  appointed  means  for  obtaining  or 
enjoying  them  .Now,  reason  shows  us  nothing  of  the  par- 
i^uiar  immediate  means  of  obtaining  either  tempoial  o; 

t  Chap.  5.  t  John  ill  5. 


CHAP.    I.]  OF    CHRISTIANITY.  „  149 

spiritual  benefits.  This,  therefore,  we  must  learn,  either 
from  experience  or  revelation.  And  experience  the  present 
case  does  not  admit  of. 

The  conclusion  from  all  this  evidently  is,  that  Christianity 
being  supposed  either  true  or  credible,  it  is  unspeakable 
irreverence,  and  really  the  most  presumptuous  rashness,  to 
treat  it  as  a  light  matter.  It  can  never  justly  be  esteemed 
of  little  consequence,  till  it  be  positively  supposed  false.  Nor 
do  I  know  a  higher  and  more  important  obligation  which 
we  are  under,  ihan  that  of  examining  most  seriously  into 
the  evidence  of  it,  supposing  its  credibility  ;  and  of  embrac 
rng  it,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth. 

The  two  following  deductions  may  be  proper  to  be  added, 
in  order  to  illus'rate  the  foregoing  observations,  and  to  pre- 
vent their  being  mistaken. 

First,  Hence  we  may  clearly  see,  where  lies  the  distinc- 
tion between  what  is  positive  and  what  is  moral  in  religion. 
Moral  precepts  are  precepts,  the  reasons  of  which  we  see  ; 
positive  precepts  are  precepts,  the  reasons  of  which  we  do 
not  see.*  Moral  duties  arise  out  of  the  nature  of  the  case 
itself,  prior  to  external  command.  Positive  duties  do  not 
arise  out  of  the  nature  of  the  case,  but  from  external  com 
mand  ;  nor  would  they  be  duties  at  all,  were  it  not  for  such 
command  received  from  him,  whose  creatures  and  subjects 
we  are.  But  the  manner  in  which  the  nature  of  the  case, 
or  the  fact  .of  the  relation,  is  made  known,  this  doth  not  de- 
nominate any  duty,  either  positive  or  moral.  That  we  be 
baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  is  as  much  a  positive 
duty  as  that  we  be  baptized  in  the  name  of  the  Son ;  be- 
cause both  arise  equally  from  revealed  command :  though 
the  relation  which  we  stand  in  to  God  the  Father,  is  made 
known  to  us  by  reason  ;  the  relation  we  stand  in  to  Christ, 
by  revelation  only.  On  the  other  hand,  the  dispensation  of 
the  gospei  admitted,  gratitude  as  immediately  becomes  due 
to  Christ,  from  his  being  the  voluntary  minister  of  this  dis- 
pensation, as  it  is  due  to  God  the  Father,  from  his  being  the 
fountain  of  all  good  ;  though  the  first  is  made  known  to  us 
by  revelation  only,  the  second  by  reason.  Hence  also  we 

*  This  is  the  distinction  between  moral  and  positive  precepts,  con.=ider- 
ed  respectively  as  such.  But  yet,  since  the  latter  have  somewhat  ol  a  mo- 
ral nature,  we' may  see  the  reason  of  them  considered  in  this  view.  M«r 
tal  ind  positive  precepts  are  in  some  respects  alike,  in  other  respects  ditler- 
f,nt.  So  far  as  they  are  alike,  we  discern  the  reasons  of  Loth ;  so  far  as 
they  are  different,  we  discern  the  reasons  of  the  former,  but  not  of  the  laV 


150  OF    THE    IMPORTANCE  [PART    II 

may  see.  and,  for  distinctness  sake,  it  may  be  worth  men- 
tioning, that  positive  institutions  come  under  a  twofold  con- 
sideration.  They  are  either  institutions  founded  on  natural 
rdigion,  as  baptism  in  the  name  of  the  Father  ;  though  this 
has  also  a  particular  reference  to  the  gospel  dispensation, 
for  it  is  in  the  name  of  God,  as  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jcsu? 
Christ ;  or  they  are  external  institutions  founded  on  revealed 
religion,  as  baptism  m  the  name  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost. 

Secondly,  From  the  distinction  between  what  is  moral  and 
what  is  positive  in  religion,  appears  the  ground  of  that  pe- 
culiar preference,  which  the  Scripture  teaches  us  to  be  due 
to  the  former. 

The  reason  of  positive  institutions  in  general  is  very  obvi- 
ous, though  we  should  not  see  the  reason  why  such  parti- 
cular ones  are  pitched  upon,  rather  than  others.  Whoever, 
therefore,  instead  of  cavilling  at  words,  will  attend  to  the 
thing  itself,  may  clearly  see,  that  positive  institutions  in 
general,  as  distinguished  from  this  or  that  particular  one, 
have  the  nature  of  moral  commands  :  since  the  reasons  of 
them  appear.  Thus,  for  instance,  the  external  worship  of 
God  is  a  moral  duty,  though  no  particular  mode  of  it  be  so. 
Care  then  is  to  be  taken,  when  a  comparison  is  made  be- 
tween positive  and  moral  duties,  that  they  be  compared  no 
farther  than  as  they  are  different ;  no  farther  than  as  the 
former  are  positive,  or  arise  out  of  mere  external  command, 
the  reasons  of  which  we  are  not  acquainted  with  ;  and  as 
the  latter  are  moral,  or  arise  out  of  the  apparent  reason  of 
the  case,  without  such  external  command.  Unless  this  cau- 
tion be  observed,  we  shall  run  into  endless  confusion. 

Now,  this  being  premised,  suppose  two  standing  precepts 
enjoined  by  the  same  authority  ;  that,  in  certain  conjunctures 
ii  is  impossible  to  obey  both ;  that  the  former  is  moral,  i.  e.  a 
precept  of  which  we  see  the  reasons,  and  that  they  hold  in 
tiie  particular  case  before  us :  but  that  the  latter  is  positive, 
z.  e.  a  precept  of  which  we  do  not  see  the  reasons :  it  is  in- 
disputable that  our  obligations  are  to  obey  the  former,  because 
thci e  is  an  apparent  reason  for  this  preference,  and  none 
against  it.  Farther,  positive  institutions.  I  suppose  all  those 
which  Cl-  ristianity  enjoins,  are  means  to  a  moral  end  ;  and 
the  end  must  be  acknowledged  more  excellent  than  the 
means.  Nor  is  observance  of  these  institutions  any  religious 
obedience  at  all,  or  of  any  value,  otherwise  than  as  it  pro* 
cceds  from  a  moral  principle.  This  seems  to  be  the  strict 


tll&P.    I.]  OF    CHRISTIANITY.  151 

logical  way  of  stating  and  determining  this  manor  ;  but 
will,  perhaps,  be  found  less  applicable  to  practice,  thuu  nuu 
oe  thought  at  first  sight. 

And  therefore,  in  a  more  practical,  though  more  lax  -vay 
of  consideration,  and  taking  the  words,  moral  law  and  pooiii •;/ 
institutions,  in  the  popular  sense;  I  add,  that  the  \vliofc 
moral  law  is  as  much  matter  of  revealed  command,  as  posi- 
tive institutions  are ;  for  the  scripture  enjoins  every  moiai 
virtue.  In  this  respect,  then,  they  are  both  upon  a  level. 
But  the  moral  law  is,  moreover,  written  upon  our  hearts,  in 
terwoven  into  our  very  nature.  And  this  is  a  plain  intima- 
tion of  the  Author  of  it,  which  is  to  be  preferred,  when  they 
interfere. 

But  there  is  not  altogether  so  much  necessity  for  the  de- 
termination of  this  question  as  some  persons  srem  to  iliink. 
Nor  are  we  left  to  reason  alone  to  determine  it.  For.  Jiist, 
Though  mankind  have  in  all  ages  been  greatly  prcnc  to 
place  '.heir  religion  in  peculiar  positive  rites,  by  way  of  eYjui- 
valen  for  obedience  to  moral  precepts  ;  yet,  without  making 
any  comparison  at  all  between  them,  and  consequently  \\i: fa- 
out  determining  which  is  to  have  the  preference,  the  nature 
01' the  thing  abundantly  shows  all  notions  of  that  kind  to  be 
utterly  subversive  of  true  religion  ;  as  they  are,  moreover 
contrary  to  tfa*1  whole  general  tenor  of  Scripture,  ami  like- 
wise to  the  most  express  particular  declarations  of  it,  that 
nothing  can  render  us  accepted  of  God,  without  moral  virtue. 
Secondly,  Upon  the  occasion  of  mentioning  together  pos-iiive 
arid  moral  duties,  the  Scripture  always  puts  the  stress  of  ic- 
ligion  upon  the  latter,  and  never  upon  the  former  :  \\lmh, 
though  no  sort  of  allowance  to  neglect  the  former,  when  they 
io  not  interfere  with  the  latter,  yet  is  a  plain  iniiiuatiun;  that 
when  they  do,  the  latter  are  to  be  preferred.  And,  fan  her, 
as  mankind  are  for  placing  the  stress  of  their  religion  any 
where,  rather  than  upon  virtue,  lest  both  the  reason  i.f  the 
thing,  and  the  general  spirit  of  Christianity,  appearing  in  the 
intimation  now  mentioned,  should  be  ineffectual  against  this 
prevalent  foil}- .  our  Lord  himself,  from  whose  command 
alone  the  obligation  of  positive  institutions  arises,  has  iakcn 
OC&Uhion  to  make  the  comparison  between  them  and  nucrai 
precepts,  when  the  Pharisees  censured  him  for  eating  with 
publicans  and  sinners ;  and  also  when  they  censured  his  dis- 
ciples for  plucking  the  ears  cf  corn  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Upon 
this  comparison  he  has  determined  expressly,  and  in  form, 
vhich  shall  have  the  preference  when  they  interfere.  And 


152  OP    THE    IMPORTANCE  [PART    IL 

by  delivering  his  authoritative  determination  in  a  proverbial 
xnanner  of  expression,  he  has  made  it  general :  /  loill  havt 
mercy,  and  not  sacrifice*  The  propriety  of  the  word  prover- 
bial is  not  the  thing  insisted  upon,  though,  I  think,  the  man- 
ner of  speaking  is  to  be  called  so.  But  that  the  manner  of 
spe.iking  very  remarkably  renders  the  determination  general, 
is  surely  indisputable.  For,  had  it,  in  the  latter  case,  been 
said  only,  that  God  preferred  mercy  to  the  rigid  observance 
of  the  Sabbath,  even  then,  by  parity  of  reason,  most  justly 
might,  we  have  argued,  that  he  preferred  mercy,  likewise,  to 
the  observance  of  other  ritual  institutions,  and,  in  general, 
moral  duties  to  positive  ones.  And  thus  the  determination 
would  have  been  general,  though  its  being  so  were  inferred, 
and  not  expressed.  But  as  the  passage  really  stands  in  the 
gospel,  it  is  much  stronger  ;  for  the  sense,  and  the  very  lite- 
ral words  of  our  Lord's  answer,  are  as  applicable  to  any 
other  instance  of  a  comparison,  between  positive  and  moral 
duties,  as  to  this  upon  which  they  were  spoken.  And  if,  in 
rase  of  competition,  mercy  is  to  be  preferred  to  positive  in- 
stitutions, it  will  scarce  be  thought,  that  justice  is  to  give 
place  to  them.  It  is  remrukable,  too,  that,  as  the  words  are 
a  quotation  from  the  Old  Testament,  they  are  introduced,  on 
both  of  the  forementioned  occasions,  with  a  declaration,  that 
the  Pharisees  did  not  understand  the  meaning  of  them.  This, 
I  say,  is  very  remarkable ;  for,  since  it  is  scarce  possfble  for 
the  most  ignorant  person  not  *'  understand  the  literal  sense 
cf  the  passage  in  the  Prophet,^  and  since  understanding  the 
literal  sense  would  not  have  prevented  their  condemning  the 
guiltless^  it  can  hardly  be  doubted,  that  the  thing  which  our 
Lord  really  intended  in  that  declaration  was,  that  the  Phari- 
sees had  not  learnt  from  it,  as  they  might,  wherein  the  gene- 
ral spirit  of  religion  consists  ;  that  it  consists  in  moral  piety 
and  virtue,  as  distinguished  from  forms  and  ritual  observan- 
ces. However,  it  is  certain  we  may  learn  this  from  his  di- 
vine application  of  the  passage,  in  the  gospel. 

But, as  it  is  oneof  the  peculiar  weaknessesof  human  nature, 
when,  upon  a  comparison  of  two  things,  one  is  found  to  be  of 
greater  importance  than  the  other,  to  consider  this  other  ?.a 
of  scarce  any  importance  at  all ;  it  is  highly  necessary  that 
WQ  remind  ourselves,  how  great  presumption  itis  tomake  ligKl 

*  Matt.  ix.  13,  and  xii.  7.  T  H«.  vi 

*  Bw  .Matt.  xii.  7. 


.  I.J  OF  CIIIUSTIANITT.  Jg^ 

of  any  institutions  of  divine  appointment ;  that  our  obligations 
to  ooey  all  God's  commands  whatever,  are  absolute  and  in- 
dispensable ;  and  that  commands  merely  positive,  admitted 
to  be  from  him,  lay  us  under  a  moral  obligation  to  obey  ihem  ; 
an  obligation  moral  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper  sense. 
To  these  things  T  cannot  forbear  adding,  that  the  account 
now  given  of  Christianity  most  strongly  shows  and  enforces 
upon  us  the  obligation  of  searching  the  Scriptures,  in  order 
to  see  what  the  scheme  of  revelation  really  is  instead  of  deter- 
mining beforehand,  from  reason,  what  the  scheme  of  it 
must  be.*  Indeed,  if  in  revelation  there  be  found  any  pas- 
sages, the  seeming  meaning  of  which  is  contrary  to  natural 
religion,  we  may  most  certainly  conclud«  such  seeming 
meaning  not  to  be  the  real  one.  But  it  is  not  any  degree  of 
presumption  against  an  interpretation  of  Scriptures,  that  such 
interpretation  contains  a  doctrine,  which  the  light  of  nature 
cannot  discover,  or  a  precept,  which  the  law  of  nature  doe? 
not  oblige  to. 


154  OF   THE    SUPPOSED    PRESUMPTiON         [PART  II 


CHAPTER  II. 


(If  the  Supposed  Presumption  against  a  Revelatiot,  consid- 
ered as  ^Miraculous. 

HAVING  shown  the  importance  of  the  Christian  rnvcla- 
fior,  and  the  obligations  which  we  are  under  serious. y  to  at- 
(en:,  to  it,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth  or  its  credibility  ;  the 
next  thing  in  order  i.s,  to  consider  the  supposed  presump.ions 
against  revelation  in  general,  which  shall  be  the  subject  of 
this  chapter  ;  and  the  objections  against  the  Christian  in 
particular,  which  shall  be  the  subject  of  some  following 
ones.*  For  it  seems  the  most,  natural  method  to  remove 
these  prejudices  against  Chnstianit}-,  before  we  proceed  to 
the  consideration  of  the  positive  evidence  for  it,  and  the  ob- 
pctioua<rainst  that  evidence. f 

It  is,  I  think,  commonly  supposed,  that  there  is  some  pe- 
culiar presumption,  from  the  analogy  of  nature,  against  tho 
Clirisiian  scheme  of  things,  at  least  against  miracles  ;  so  as 
that  stronger  evidence  is  necessary  to  prove  the  truth  and 
reality  of  them,  than  wo.dd  be  sufficient  to  convince  us  of 
other  events  or  matters  of  fact.  Indeed,  the  consideration 
of  this  supposed  presumption  cannot  but  be  thought  very  in- 
significant by  many  persons  ;  yet,  as  it  belongs  to  the  sub 
ject  of  this  treatise,  so  it  may  tend  to  open  the  mind,  and  re- 
move some  prejudices  ;  however  needless  the  consideration 
of  it  bo,  upon  its  own  account. 

I.  I  find  no  appearance  of  a  presumption,  from  the  anal 
ogy  of  nature,  against  the  general  scheme  of  Christianity 
that  God  created  and  invisibly  governs  the  world  by  Jesua 
Christ,  and  by  him  also  will  hereafter  judge  it  in  righteous- 
ness, i.  e.  render  to  every  one  according  to  his  works  ;  and 
that  good  men  are  under  the  secret  influence  of  his  Spirit 

*  feliay.  3,  4,  6,  ti  t  Chap.  7. 


tHAP.  II.}  AGAINST    MIUA-CLES.  IS5 

Whether  these  things  are,  or  are  not,  to  be  called  miraculous, 
is,  perhaps,  only  a  question  about  words  •  or,  however,  is  of 
no  moment  in  the  case.  If  the  analogy  of  nature  raises  any 
presumption  against  this  general  scheme  of  Christianity,  it 
must  be,  either  because  it  is  not  discoverable  by  reason 
or  experience,  or  else  because  it  is  unlike  that  course  of  na- 
ture, which  is.  But  analogy  raises  no  presumption  against 
the  truth  of  this  scheme,  upon  either  of  these  accounts. 

First,  There  is  no  presumption,  from  analog}',  against  the 
truth  of  it,  upon  account  of  its  not  being  discoverable  by 
reason  or  experience.  For,  suppose  one  who  never  heard 
of  revelation,  of  the  most  improved  understanding,  and  ac- 
quainted with  our  whole  system  of  natural  philosophy  and 
natural  religion ;  such  a  one  could  not  but  be  sensible,  that 
it  was  but  a  very  small  part  of  the  natural  and  moral  system 
of  the  universe,  which  he  was  acquainted  with.  He  could 
not  but  be  sensible,  that  there  must  be  innumerable  things, 
in  the  dispensations  of  Providence  past,  in  the  invisible  go- 
vernment over  the  world  at  present  carrying  on,  and  in  what 
is  to  come,  of  which  he  was  wholly  ignorant,  and  which 
could  not  be  discovered  without  revelation.  Whether  the 
scheme  of  nature  be,  in  the  strictest  sense,  infinite  or  not,  it 
is  evidently  vast,  even  beyond  all  possible  imagination. 
And,  doubtless,  that  part  of  it  which  is  opened  to  our  view, 
is  but  as  a  point,  in  comparison  of  the  whole  plan  of  Provi- 
dence, reaching  throughout  eternity,  past  and  future  ;  in 
comparison  of  what  is  even  now  going  on  in  the  remote  parts 
«f  the  boundless  universe  ;  nay,  in  comparison  of  the  whole 
scheme  of  this  world.  And,  therefore,  that  things  lie  beyond 
the  natural  reach  of  our  faculties,  is  no  sort  of  presumption 
against  the  truth  and  reality  of  them  ;  because  it  is  certain, 
there  are  innumerable  things  in  the  constitution  and  govern- 
ment of  the  universe,  which  are  thus  beyond  the  natural 
reach  of  our  faculties.  Secondly,  Analogy  raises  no  pre- 
sumption  agaiast  any  of  the  things  contained  in  this  genera] 
doctrine  of  Scripture  now  mentioned,  upon  account  of  their 
being  unlike  the  known  course  of  nature.  For  there  is  no 
presumption  at  all,  from  analogy,  that  the  whole  course  <jf 
things,  or  divine  government,  naturally  unknown  to  us,  and 
every  thing  in  it,  is  like  to  any  thing  in  that  which  is  known  ; 
and  therefore  no  peculiar  presumption  against  ai;y  thing  in 
tne  former,  upon  account  of  its  being  unlike  to  any  thing  in 


156  OF    THE    SUPPOSED    PRESUMPTION         [PART    II 

the  latter.  And  in  the  constitution  and  natural  government 
of  the  world,  as  well  as  in  the  moral  government  of  it,  we 
see  things,  in  a  great  degree,  unlike  one  another  :  and  there- 
fore ought  not  to  wonder  at  such  unlikeness  between  things 
visible  and  invisible.  However,  the  scheme  of  Christianity 
is  by  no  means  entirely  unlike  the  scheme  of  nature  ;  as  will 
appear  in  the  following  part  of  this  treatise. 

The  notion  of  a  miracle,  considered  as  a  proof  of  a  di- 
vine mission,  has  been  stated  with  great  exactness  by  di- 
vines ;  and  is,  I  think,  sufficiently  understood  by  every  one 
There  are  also  invisible  miracles  ;  the  incarnation  of  Christ, 
for  instance,  which,  being  secret,  cannot  be  alledged  as'a. 
proof  of  such  a  mission  ;  but  require  themselves  to  be  pro- 
ved by  visible  miracles.  Revelation,  itself,  too,  is  miraculous 
and  miracles  are  the  proof  of  it;  and  the  supposed  presump- 
tion against  these  shall  presently  be  considered.  All  which 
I  have  been  observing  here  is,  that,  whether  we  choose  to 
call  every  thing  in  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  not  dis 
coverable  without  revelation,  nor  like  the  known  course  of 
things,  miraculous  ;  and  whether  the  general  Christian  dis- 
pensation now  mentioned,  is  to  be  called  so,  or  not,;  the  fore 
going  observations  seem  certainly  to  show,  that  there  is  no 
presumption  against  it,  from  the  analogy  of  nature. 

II.  There  is  no  presumption,  from  analogy,  against  some 
operations,  which  we  should  now  call  miraculous  ;  particu- 
larly, none  against  a  revelation,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world;  nothing  of  such  presumptions  against  it,  as  is  sup- 
posed to  be  implied  or  expressed  in  the  word  miraculous. 
For  a  miracle,  in  its  very  notion,  is  relative  to  a  course  of 
nature  ;  and  implies  somewhat  different  from  it,  considered 
as  being  so.  Now,  either  there  was  no  course  of  nature  at 
the  time  which  we  are  speaking  of;  or  if  there  were,  we  are 
not  acquainted  what  the  course  of  nature  is  upon  the  first 
peopling  of  worlds.  And  therefore  the  question,  whether 
mankind  had  a  revelation  made  to  them  at  that  time  is  to  be 
considered,  not  as  a  question  concerning  a  miracle,  but  as  a 
common  question  of  fact.  And  we  have  the  like  reason,  be 
it  more  or  less,  to  admit  the  report  of  tradition  concerning 
this  question  and  concerning  common  matters  of  fact  of  the 
same  antiquity ;  for  instance,  what  part  of  the  earth  was 
first  people-]. 

Or  thus :  When  mankind  was  first  placed  in  this  state, 
there  was  a  power  exerted,  totally  different  from  the  present 
course  of  natuVo.  Now,  whether  this  power,  thus  wholly 


CHAP.   II.]  AGAINST    MIRACLES.  157 

different  from  the  present  course  of  nature  ;  for  we  cannot 
properly  apply  to  it  the  word  miraculous  j  whether  this  power 
stopped  immediately  after  it  had  made  man,  or  went  on,  and 
exerted  itself  farther  in  giving  him  a  revelation,  is  a  question 
of  the  same  kind,  as  whether  an  ordinary  power  exerted  itself 
in  such  a  particular  degree  and  manner,  or  not. 

Or  suppose  the  power  exerted  in  the  formation  of  the  world 
be  considered  as  miraculous,  or  rather,  be  called  by  the  name, 
the  case  will  not  be  different ;  since  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
that  such  a  power  was  exerted.  For  supposing  it  acknow- 
ledged that  our  Saviour  spent  some  years  in  a  course  of 
working  miracles  ;  there  is  no  more  presumption,  worth  men 
tioning,  against  his  having  exerted  this  miraculous  power, 
in  a  certain  degree  greater,  than  in  a  certain  degree  less  ;  in 
one  or  two  more  instances,  than  in  one  or  two  fewer  j  in  this, 
than  in  another  manner. 

It  is  evident,  then,  that  there  can  be  no  peculiar  presumption, 
from  the  analogy  of  nature,  against  supposing  a  revelation, 
when  man  was  first  placed  upon  the  earth. 

Add,  that  there  does  not  appear  the  least  intimation  in 
history  or  tradition,  that  religion  was  first  reasoned  out ;  but 
the  whole  of  history  and  tradition  makes  for  the  other  side, 
that  it  came  into  the  world  by  revelation.  Indeed,  the  state 
of  religion  in  the  first  ages,  of  which  we  have  any  account 
seems  to  suppose  and  imply,  that  this  was  the  original  of 
it  amongst  mankind.  And  these  reflections  together,  with- 
out taking  in  the  peculiar  authority  of  Scripture,  amount  to 
real  and  very  material  degree  of  evidence,  that  there  was  a 
revelation  at  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Now  this,  as  it  is 
a  confirmation  of  natural  religion,  and  therefore  mentioned  in 
the  former  part  of  this  treatise  ;  so,  likewise,  it  has  a  ten- 
dency to  remove  any  prejudices  against  a  subsequent  revela- 
tion. 

III.  But  still  it  may  be  objected,  that  there  is  some  pecu- 
liar presumption  from  analogy,  against  miracles  ;  particular- 
ly against  revelation,  after  the  settlement  and  during  the 
continuance  of  a  course  of  nature. 

Now,  with  regard  to  this  supposed  presumption,  it  is  to 
be  observed  in  general,  that  before  we  can  have  ground  for 
raising  what  can,  with  any  propriety,  be  called  an  argument 
from  analogy,  for  or  ugainst  revelation  considered  as  some- 
what miraculous,  v/e  irvr-t  be  ocquainted  with  a  similar  of 


158  Or    THE    SUPPOSED    FRESUMP1ION          [/ART  II. 

parallel  case.  But  the  history  of  some  other  world,  seemingly 
in  like  circumstances  with  our  own,  is  no  more  than  a  parallel 
case ;  and  therefore  nothing  short  of  this  can  be  so.  Yet, 
could  we  come  at  a  presumptive  proof,  for  or  against  a  reve- 
lation, from  being  informed  whether  such  world  had  one,  or 
not ;  such  a  proof,  being  drawn  from  one  single  instance 
only,  must  be  infinitely  precarious.  More  particularly  :  First 
of  all,  There  is  a  very  strong  presumption  against  common 
speculative  truths,  and  against  the  most  ordinary  facts,  before 
the  proof  of  them ;  which  yet  is  overcome  by  almost  any 
proof.  There  is  a  presumption  of  millions  to  one,  against  the 
story  of  Ccesar,  or  of  any  other  man.  For  suppose  a  number 
of  common  facts  so  and  so  circumstanced,  of  which  one  had 
no  kind  of  proof,  should  happen  to  come  into  one's  thoughts  ; 
every  one  would,  without  any  possible  doubt,  conclude  them 
to  be  false.  And  the  like  may  be  said  of  a  single  common 
fact.  And  from  hence  it  appears,  that  the  question  of  im- 
portance, as  to  the  matter  before  us,  is,  concerning  the  degree 
of  the  peculiar  presumption  supposed  against  miracles  ;  not 
whether  there  be  any  peculiar  presumption  at  all  against 
them.  For,  if  there  be  the  presumption  of  millions  to  one, 
against  the  most  common  facts,  what  can  a  small  presump- 
tion, additional  to  this,  amount  to,  though  it  be  peculiar  ?  It 
cannot  be  estimated,  and  is  as  nothing.  The  only  material 
question  is,  whether  there  be  any  such  presumption  against 
miracles,  as  to  render  them  in  any  sort  incredible  1  Secondly, 
If  we  leave  out  the  consideration  of  religion,  we  are  in  such 
total  darkness,  upon  what  causes,  occasions,  reasons,  or  cir- 
cumstances, the  present  course  of  nature  depends,  that  there 
does  not  appear  any  improbability  for  or  against  supposing-, 
that  five  or  six  thousand  years  may  have  given  scope  for 
causes,  occasions,  reasons,  or  circumstances,  from  whence 
miraculous  interpositions  may  have  arisen.  And  from  this, 
iovned  with  the  foregoing  observation,  it  will  follow,  that  there 
must  be  a  presumption,  beyond  all  comparison,  greater,  agains. 
the  particular  common  facts  just  now  instanced  in,  than 
against  miracles  in  general ;  before  any  evidence  of  either. 
But,  thirdly,  Take  in  the  consideration  of  religion,  or  the 
moral  system  of  the  world,  and  then  we  see  distinct  particu- 
lar reasons  for  miracles  ;  to  afford  mankind  instruction  addi- 
tional to  that  of  nature,  and  to  attest  the  truth  of  it.  And 
this  gives  a  real  credibility  to  the  supposition,  that  it  might  be 
part  of  the  original  plan  of  things,  that  there  should  be  mi- 
raculous interpositions.  Then,  lastly,  Miracles  must  not  be 


CBif.  II.]  AGAINST    MIRACLES  159 

compared  to  common  natural  events;  or  to  events  which, 
though  uncommon,  are  similar  to  what  we  daily  experience  ; 
but  to  the  extraordinary  phenomena  of  nature.  And  then 
the  comparison  will  be,  between  the  presumption  against 
miracles,  and  the  presumption  against  such  uncommon  ap- 
pearances, suppose,  as  comets,  and  against  there  being  any 
such  powers  in  nature  as  magnetism  and  electricity,  so  con- 
trary to  the  properties  of  other  bodies  not  endued  with  these 
powers.  And  before  any  one  can  determine,  whether  there 
be  any  peculiar  presumption  against  miracles,  more  than 
against  other  extraordinary  things,  he  must  consider,  what, 
upon  first  hearing,  would  be  the  presumption  against  the  last 
mentioned  appearances  and  powers,  to  a  person  acquainted 
only  with  the  daily,  monthly,  and  annual  course  of  nature 
respecting  this  earth,  and  with  those  common  powers  of 
matter  which  we  every  day  see. 

Upon  all  this  I  conclude,  That  there  certainly  is  no  such 
presumption  against  miracles,  as  to  render  them  in  any  wise 
incredible ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  our  being  able  to  discern 
reasons  for  them,  gives  a  positive  credibility  to  the  history  of 
them,  in  cases  where  those  reasons  hold  ;  and  that  it  is  by 
no  means  certain,  that  there  is  any  peculiar  presumption  at 
all,  from  analogy,  even  in  the  lowest  degree,  against  miracles, 
as  distinguished  from  other  extraordinary  phenomena ;  though 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  perplex  the  reader  with  inquiries  into 
the  abstract  nature  of  evidence,  in  order  to  determine  a  ques- 
tion, which,  without  such  inquiries,  we  see  is  of  no  impor- 
tant* 


THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    REVELATION         [PART  II 


CHAPTER  III. 


Of  our  Incapacity  of  Judging,  what  were  to  be  expected  in 
a  Revelation;  and  the  Credibility  from  Analogy ,  that  it 
must  contain  Things  appearing  liable  to  Objections. 

BESIDES  the  objections  against  the  evidence  for  Christianity, 
many  are  alleged  against  the  scheme  of  it ;  against  the  whole 
manner  in  which  it  is  put  and  left  with  the  world  ;  as  well  as 
against  several  particular  relations  in  Scripture :  objections 
drawn  from  the  deficiencies  of  revelation  :  from  things  in  it  ap 
pearingto  men  foolishness  ;*  from  its  containing  matters  of 
offence,  which  have  led,  and  it  must  have  been  foreseen, 
would  lead,  into  strange  enthusiasm  and  superstition,  and  be 
made  to  serve  the  purposes  of  tyranny  and  wickedness ;  from 
its  not  being  universal ;  and,  which  is  a  thing  of  the  same 
kind,  from  its  evidence  not  being  so  convincing  and  satisfac- 
tory as  it  might  have  been ;  for  this  last  is  sometimes  turned 
into  a  positive  argument  against  its  truth.']'  It  would  be  te- 
dious, indeed  impossible,  to  enumerate  the  several  particulars 
comprehended  under  the  objections  here  referred  to,  they 
being  so  various,  according  to  the  different  fancies  of  men. 
There  are  persons,  who  think  it  a  strong  objection  against 
the  authority  of  Scripture,  that  it  is  not  composed  by  rules  of 
art,  agreed  upon  by  critics,  for  polite  and  correct  writing. 
And  the  scorn  is  inexpressible,  with  which  some  of  the  pro- 
phetic parts  of  Scripture  are  treated ;  partly  through  the 
rashness  of  interpreters,  but  very  much  also  on  account  of  the 
hieroglyphical  and  figurative  language  in  which  they  are 
left  us.  Some  of  the  principal  things  of  this  sort  shall  be 
particularly  considered  in  the  following  chapters.  But  my 
design  at  present  is  to  observe,  in  general,  with  respect  to  this 
whole  way  of  arguing,  that,  upon  supposition  of  a  revelation, 

MCor.i.18.  t  See  Chap.  6. 


• 


CHAP.  III.]  LIABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS  161 

K  is  highly  credible  beforehand,  we  should  be  incompetent 
judges  of  it,  to  a  great  degree ;  and  that  it  would  contain 
many  things  appealing  to  us  liable  to  great  objections,  in  case 
we  judge  of  it  otherwise  than  by  the  analogy  of  nature.  And, 
therefore,  though  objections  against  the  evidence  of  Chris- 
tianity are  mure  seriously  to  be  considered,  yet  objections 
against  Christianity  itself  are,  in  a  great  measure,  frivolous ; 
almost  all  objections  against  it,  excepting  those  which  are  al- 
leged against  the  particular  proofs  of  its  coming  from  God. 
I  express  myself  with  caution,  lest  I  should  be  mistaken  to 
vilify  reason,  which  is  indeed  the  only  faculty  we  have 
wherewith  to  judge  concerning  any  thing,  even  revelation 
itself;  or  be  misunderstood  to  assert,  that  a  supposed  revela- 
tion cannot  be  proved  false  from  internal  characters.  For, 
it  may  contain  clear  immoralities  or  contradictions  ;  and  either 
of  these  would  prove  it  false.  Nor  will  I  take  upon  me  to 
affirm,  that  nothing  else  can  possibly  render  any  supposed 
revelation  incredible.  Yet  still  the  observation  above  is,  I 
think,  true  beyond  doubt,  that  objections  against  Christianity, 
as  distinguished  from  objections  against  its  evidence,  are 
frivolous.  To  make  out  this,  is  the  general  design  of  the 
present  chapter  And,  with  regard  to  the  whole  of  it,  I  can- 
not but  particularly  wish,  that  the  proofs  might  be  attended 
to,  rather  than  the  assertions  cavilled  at,  upon  account  of  any 
unacceptable  consequences,  whether  real  or  supposed,  which 
may  be  drawn  from  them.  For  after  all,  that  which  is  true, 
must  be  admitted ;  though  it  should  show  us  the  shortness  of 
our  faculties,  and  that  we  are  in  nowise  judges  of  many 
things  of  which  we  are  apt  to  think  ourselves  very  compe- 
tent ones.  Nor  will  this  be  any  objection  with  reasonable 
men ;  at  least,  upon  second  thought,  it  will  not  be  any  objec- 
tion with  such,  against  the  justness  of  the  following  observa- 
tions, 

As  God  governs  the  world,  and  instructs  his  creatures,  ac- 
cording to  certain  laws  or  rules,  in  the  known  course  of  na- 
ture, known  by  reason  together  with  experience ;  so  the 
Scripture  informs  us  of  a  scheme  of  divine  Providence,  addi- 
tional to  this.  It  relates,  that  God  has,  by  revelation,  in- 
structed men  in  things  concerning  his  government,  which 
they  could  not  otherwise  have  known,  and  reminded  them  of 
things  which  they  might  otherwise  know  ;  and  attested  the 
truth  of  the  whole  by  miracles.  Now,  if  the  natural  and  the 
revealed  dispensation  of  things  are  both  from  God,  if  they 
coincide  with  each  other,  and  together  make  i  p  one  scheme 


102  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    REVELATION         £PART  H. 

of  Providence,  our  being  incompetent  judges  of  one,  must 
render  it  credible  that  we  may  be  incompetent  judges  also  ol 
the  other.  Since,  upon  experience,  the  acknowledged  con- 
stitution and  course  of  nature  is  found  to  be  greatly  different 
from  what,  before  experience,  would  have  been  expected; 
and  such  as,  men  fancy,  there  lie  great  objections  against . 
This  renders  it  beforehand  highly  credible,  that  they  may 
find  the  revealed  dispensation  likewise,  if  they  judge  of  it  as 
they  do  of  the  constitution  of  nature,  very  different  from  ex- 
pectations formed  beforehand ;  and  liable,  in  appearance,  to 
great  objections:  objections  against  the  scheme  itself,  and 
against  the  degrees  and  manners  of  the  miraculous  interposi- 
tions, by  which  it  was  attested  and  carried  on.  Thus,  sup- 
pose a  prince  to  govern  his  dominions  in  the  wisest  manrej 
possible,  by  common  known  laws  ;  and  that  upon  some  exi- 
gencies he  should  suspend  these  laws,  and  govern,  in  several 
instances,  in  a  different  manner :  if  one  of  his  subjects  were 
not  a  competent  judge  beforehand,  by  what  common  rules 
the  government  should  or  would  be  carried  on,  it  «ould  not  be 
expected  that  the  same  person  would  be  a  competent  judge, 
in  what  exigencies,  or  in  what  manner,  or  to  what  degree, 
those  laws  commonly  observed  would  be  suspended  or  de- 
viated from.  If  he  were  not  a  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
ordinary  administration,  there  is  no  reason  to  think  he  would 
be  a  judge  of  the  wisdom  of  the  extraordinary.  F  he  thought 
he  had  objections  against  the  former,  doubtless,  it  is  highly 
supposable,  he  might  think  also,  that  he  had  objections 
against  the  latter.  And  thus,  as  we  fall  into  infinite  follies 
and  mistakes,  whenever  we  pretend,  otherwise  than  from  ex- 
perience and  analogy,  to  judge  of  the  constitution  and  course 
of  nature,  it  is  evidently  supposable  beforehand,  that  we  should 
fall  into  as  great,  in  pretending  to  judge,  in  like  manner,  con- 
cerning revelation.  Nor  is  there  any  more  ground  to  expect 
that  this  latter  should  appear  to  us  clear  of  objections,  than 
that  the  former  should. 

These  observations,  relating  to  the  whole  of  Christianity, 
are  applicable  to  inspiration  in  particular.  As  we  are  in  na 
sort  judges  beforehand,  by  what  laws  or  rules,  in  what  degree, 
or  by  what  means,  it  were  to  have  been  expected  that  God 
would  naturally  instruct  us ;  so,  upon  supposition  of  his 
affording  us  light  and  instruction  by  revelation,  additional  to 
what  he  has  afforded  us  by  reason  and  experience,  we  are  in 
no  sort  judges,  by  what  methods,  and  in  what  proportion,  it 
rere  to  be  expected  that  this  supernatural  light  and  instruo- 


CHAP.  III.]  LIABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS  163 

tion  would  be  afforded  us.  We  know  not  beforehand,  what 
degree  or  kind  of  natural  information  it  were  to  be  expected 
God  would  afford  men,  each  by  his  own  reason  and  experi- 
ence ;  nor  how  far  he  would  enable,  and  effectually  dispose 
them  to  communicate  it,  whatever  it  should  be,  to  each  other ) 
nor  whether  the  evidence  of  it  would  be  certain,  highly  pro- 
baMe,  or  doubtful ;  nor  whether  it  would  be  given  with  equa^ 
clearness  and  conviction  to  all.  Nor  could  we  guess,  upon 
any  good  ground  I  mean,  whether  natural  knowledge,  or 
even  the  faculty  itself  by  which  we  are  capable  of  attaining 
it,  reason,  would  be  given  us  at  once,  or  gradually.  In  like 
manner,  we  are  wholly  ignorant  what  degree  of  new  know- 
ledge it  were  to  be  expected  God  would  give  mankind  by 
revelation,  upon  supposition  of  his  affording  one ;  or  how  far, 
or  in  what  way,  he  would  interpose  miraculously,  to  qualify 
them,  to  whom  he  should  originally  make  the  revelation,  for 
communicating  the  knowledge  given  by  it ;  and  to  secure 
their  doing  it  to  the  age  in  which  they  should  live,  and  to 
secure  its  being  transmitted  to  posterity.  We  are  equally 
ignorant,  whether  the  evidence  of  it  would  be  certain,  or 
highly  probable,  or  doubtful  ;*  or  whether  all  who  should 
have  any  degree  of  instruction  from  it,  and  any  degree  of  evi- 
dence of  its  truth,  would  have  the  same ;  or  whether  the 
scheme  would  be  revealed  at  once,  or  unfolded  gradually. 
Nay,  we  are  not  in  any  sort  able  to  judge,  whether  it  were  to 
have  been  expected,  that  the  revelation  should  have  been 
committed  to  writing ;  or  left  to  be  handed  down,  and  conse- 
quently corrupted,  by  verbal  tradition,  and  at  length  sunk 
under  it,  if  mankind  so  pleased,  and  during  such  time  as  they 
are  permitted,  in  the  degree  they  evidently  are,  to  act  as  they 
will 

But  it  may  be  said,  'that  a  revelation  in  some  of  the 
above-mentioned  circumstances  ;  one,  for  instance,  which  was 
not  committed  to  writing,  and  thus  secured  against  danger  of 
corruption,  would  not  have  answered  its  purpose.'  I  ask, 
what  purpose  ?  It  would  not  have  answered  all  the  purposes 
which  it  has  now  answered,  and  in  the  same  degree  ;  but  it 
would  have  answered  others,  or  the  same  in  different  degrees. 
And  which  of  these  were  the  purposes  of  God,  and  best  fell 
in  with  his  general  government,  we  could  not  at  all  have  de- 
termined beforehand. 

Now  since  it  has  been  snown,  that  we  have  no  principles 

*  See  Chap.  6. 

9* 


164  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    REVELATION 

of  reason  upon  which  to  judge  beforehand,  how  it  weie  to  be 
expected  revelation  should  have  been  left,  or  what  was  most 
suitable  to  the  divine  plan  of  government,  in  any  of  the  fore- 
mentioned  respects ;  it  must  be  quite  frivolous  to  object  after- 
wards as  to  any  of  them,  against  its  being  left  in  one  wayt 
rather  than  another;  for  this  would  be  to  object  against 
things,  upon  account  of  their  being  different  from  expecia- 
tions  which  have  been  shown  to  be  without  reason.  And 
thus  we  see,  that  the  only  question  concerning  the  truth  of 
Christianity  is,  whether  it  be  a  real  revelation ;  not  whether 
it  be  attended  with  every  circumstance  which  we  should 
have  looked  for :  and  concerning  the  authority  of  Scripture, 
whether  it  be  what  it  claims  to  be  ;  not  whether  it  be  a  book 
of  such  sort,  and  so  promulged,  as  weak  men  are  apt  to 
fancy  a  book  containing  a  divine  revelation  should.  And 
therefore  neither  obscurity,  nor  seeming  inaccuracy  of  style, 
nor  various  readings,  nor  early  disputes  about  the  authors  of 
particular  parts,  nor  any  other  things  of  the  like  kind,  though 
they  had  been  much  more  considerable  in  degree  than  they 
are,  could  overthrow  the  authority  of  the  Scripture  ;  unless 
the  Prophets,  Apostles,  or  our  Lord,  had  promised,  that  the 
book,  containing  the  divine  revelation,  should  be  secure  from 
those  things.  Nor  indeed  can  any  objections  overthrow  such 
a  kind  of  revelation  as  the  Christian  claims  to  be,  since  there 
are  no  objections  against  the  morality  of  it,  but  such  as  can 
show,  that  there  is  no  proof  of  miracles  wrought  originally  in 
attestation  of  it ;  no  appearance  of  any  thing  miraculous  in 
its  obtaining  in  the  world  ;  nor  any  of  prophecy,  that  is, 
of  events  foretold,  which  human  sagacity  could  not  foresee, 
If  it  can  be  shown,  that  the  proof  alleged  for  all  these  is  ab- 
solutely none  at  all,  then  is  revelation  overturned.  But  were 
it  allowed,  that  the  proof  of  any  one,  or  all  of  them,  is  lower 
than  is  allowed  ;  yet  whilst  any  proof  of  them  remains,  reve- 
lation will  stand  upon  much  the  same  foot  it  does  at  present, 
as  to  all  the  purposes  of  life  and  practice,  and  ought  to  have 
the  like  influence  upon  our  behaviour. 

From  the  foregoing  observations,  too,  it  will  follo\v ,  and 
those  who  will  thoroughly  examine  into  revelation  will  find 
it  worth  remarking,  that  there  are  several  ways  of  arguing, 
which,  though  just  with  regard  to  other  writings,  are  not  ap- 
plicable to  Scripture  ;  at  least  not  to  the  prophetic  parts  of  it. 
We  cannot  argue,  for  instance,  that  this  cannot  be  the 


CHAP.  III.]  UABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS.  165 

or  intent  of  such  a  passage  of  Scripture,  for  if  it  had,  it  would 
have  been  expressed  more  plainly,  or  have  been  represented 
under  a  moi  3  apt  figure  or  hieroglyphic ;  yet  \ve  may  justly 
argue  thus,  with  respect  to  common  books.  And  the  reason 
of  this  difference  is  very  evident  5  that  in  Scripture  we  are  not 
competent  judges,  as  we  are  in  common  books,  how  plainly 
It  were  to  have  been  expected,  what  is  the  true  sense  should 
have  been  expressed,  or  under  how  apt  an  image  figured, 
The  only  question  is,  what  appearance  there  is  that  this  ia 
the  sense  ?  and  scarce  at  all,  how  much  more  determinately 
or  accurately  it  might  have  been  expressed  or  figured  ? 

'  But  is  it  not  self-evident,  that  internal  improbabilities  of 
all  kinds,  weaken  external  probable  proof  ?'  Doubtless.  But 
to  what  practical  purpose  can  this  be  alleged  here,  when  it 
has  been  proved  before,  that  real  internal  improbabilities, 
which  rise  even  to  moral  certainty,  are  overcome  by  the  most 
ordinary  testimony  ?  and  when  it  now  has  been  made  appear, 
that  we  scarce  know  what  are  improbabilities,  as  to  the  mat- 
ter we  are  here  considering  1  as  it  will  farther  appear  from 
what  follows. 

For  though,  from  the  observations  above  made,  it  is  mani 
fest,  that  we  are  not  in  any  sort  competent  judges,  what  su- 
pernatural instruction  were  to  have  been  expected;  and 
though  it  is  self-evident,  that  the  objections  of  an  incompetent 
judgment  must  be  frivolous  ;  yet  it  may  be  proper  to  go  one 
step  farther,  and  observe,  that  if  men  will  be  regardless  of 
these  things,  and  pretend  to  judge  of  the  Scripture  by  pre- 
conceived expectations,  the  analogy  of  nature  shows  before- 
hand, not  only  that  it  is  highly  credible  they  may,  but  also 
probable  that  they  will,  imagine  they  have  strong  objections 
against  it,  however  really  unexceptionable :  for  so,  prior  to 
experience,  they  would  think  they  had,  against  the  circum- 
stances, and  degrees,  and  the  whole  manner  of  that  instruc- 
tion, which  is  afforded  by  the  ordinary  course  of  nature. 
Were  the  instruction  which  God  affords  to  brute  creatures  by 
instincts  and  mere  propensions,  and  to  mankind  by  these  to 
gether  with  reason,  matter  of  probable  proof,  and  not  of  cer- 
tain observation,  it  would  be  rejected  as  incredible,  in  many 
instances  of  it,  only  upon  account  of  the  means  by  which  this 
instruction  is  given,  the  seeming  disproportions,  the  limita- 
tions, necessary  conditions,  and  circumstances  of  it.  For  in- 
stance :  Would  it  not  have  been  thought  highly  improbable, 


166  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    REVELATION        [PART  O. 

lhat  men  should  have  been  so  much  n.ore  capable  of  disco, 
vering,  even  to  certainty,  ^he  general  laws  of  matter,  and  the 
magnitudes,  paths,  and  revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  ; 
than  the  occasions  and  cures  of  distempers,  and  many  othel 
things,  in  which  human  life  seems  so  much  more  nearly  con- 
cerned, than  in  astronomy  ?  How  capricious  and  irregular  a 
way  of  information,  would  it  be  said,  is  that  of  invention,  by 
means  of  which  nature  instructs  us  in  matters  of  science,  and 
in  many  things  upon  which  the  affairs  of  the  world  greatly 
depend  ;  that  a  man  should,  by  this  faculty  be  made  ac- 
quainted with  a  thing  in  an  instant,  when,  perhaps,  he  is 
thinking  of  somewhat  else,  which  he  has  in  vain  been  search- 
ing after,  it  may  be,  for  years.  So  likewise  the  imperfections 
attending  the  only  method  by  which  nature  enables  and  di- 
rects us  to  communicate  our  thoughts  to  each  other,  are  in- 
numerable. Language  is,  in  its  very  nature,  inadequate, 
ambiguous,  liable  to  infinite  abuse,  even  from  negligence ; 
and  so  liable  to  it  from  design,  that  every  man  can  deceive 
and  betray  by  it.  And,  to  mention  but  one  instance  more, 
that  brutes,  without  reason,  should  act,  in  many  respects, 
with  a  sagacity  and  foresight  vastly  greater  than  what  men 
have  in  those  respects,  would  be  thought  impossible.  Yet  it 
is  certain  they  do  act  with  such  superior  foresight ;  whether 
it  be  their  own,  indeed,  is  another  question.  From  these 
things  it  is  highly  credible  beforehand,  that  upon  supposition 
God  should  afford  men  some  additional  instruction  by  revela- 
tion, it  would  be  with  circumstances,  in  manners,  degrees, 
and  respects,  which  we  should  be  apt  to  fancy  we  had  great 
objections  against  the  credibility  of.  Nor  are  the  objections 
against  the  Scripture,  nor  against  Christianity  in  general,  at 
all  more  or  greater  than  the  analogy  of  nature  would  before- 
hand,— not  perhaps  give  ground  to  expect ;  for  this  analogy 
may  not  be  sufficient,  in  some  cases,  to  ground  an ,  expecta- 
tion upon ; — but  no  more  nor  greater,  than  analogy  would 
show  it,  beforehand,  to  be  supposable  and  credible,  that  thf  re 
might  seem  to  lie  against  revelation. 

By  applying  these  general  observations  to  a  particular  ob- 
jection, it  will  be  more  distinctly  seen,  how  they  are  applica- 
ble to  others  of  the  like  kind ;  and  indeed  to  almost  all  ob- 
jections against  Christianity,  as  distinguished  from  objectiona 
against  its  evidence.  It  appears  from  Scripture,  that  as  it  waa 
not  unusual,  in  the  apostolic  age,  for  persons,  upon  their  con- 
version to  Christianity,  to  be  endued  with  miraculous  gifts  • 
so,  some  of  those  persons  exercised  these  gifts  in  a  strangely 


CBAf.  Ill  J  LIABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS.  167 

irregular  and  disorderly  manner  :  and  this  is  made  an  objec 
lion,  against  their  being  really  miraculous.  Now,  the  fore- 
going observations  quite  remove  this  objection,  how  consider- 
able  soever  it  may  appear  at  first  sight.  For,  consider  a  per- 
son endued  with  any  of  these  gifts,  for  instance,  that  of 
tongues ;  it  is  to  be  supposed,  that  he  had  the  same  power 
over  this  miraculous  gilt,  as  he  would  have  had  over  it,  had 
it  been  the  effect  of  habit,  of  study,  and  use,  as  it  ordinarily 
is ;  or  the  same  power  over  it,  as  he  had  over  any  other  na- 
tural endowment.  Consequently,  he  would  use  it  in  the  same 
manner  he  did  any  other  ;  either  regularly  and  upon  propel 
occasions  only,  or  irregularly  and  upon  improper  ones  ;  ac- 
cording to  his  sense  of  decency,  and  his  character  of  prudence. 
Where,  then,  is  the  objection  1  Why,  if  this  miraculous  pow- 
er was  indeed  given  to  the  world  to  propagate  Christianity 
and  attest  the  truth  of  it,  we  might,  it  seems,  have  expected, 
that  other  sort,  of  persons  should  have  been  chosen  to  be  in 
vested  with  it ;  or  that  these  should,  at  the  same  time,  have 
been  endued  with  prudence  ;  or  that  they  should  have  been 
continually  restrained  and  directed  in  the  exercise  of  it ;  i.  e. 
that  God  should  have  miraculously  interposed,  if  at  all,  in  a 
different  manner  or  higher  degree.  But,  from  the  observa- 
tions made  above,  it  is  undeniably  evident,  that  we  are  not 
judges  in  what  degrees  and  manners  it  were  to  have  been  ex- 
pected he  should  miraculously  interpose ;  upon  supposition 
of  his  doing  it  in  some  degree  and  manner.  Nor,  in  the  na- 
tural course  of  Providence,  are  superior  gifts  of  memory,  elo- 
quence, knowledge,  and  othei  talents  of  great  influence,  con- 
ferred only  on  persons  of  prudence  and  decency,  or  such  as 
are  disposed  to  make  the  properest  use  of  them.  Nor  is  the 
instruction  and  admonition  naturally  afforded  us  for  the  con- 
duct of  life,  particularly  in  our  education,  commonly  given  in 
a  manner  the  most  suited  .to  recommend  it ;  but  often  with 
circumstances,  apt  to  prejudice  us  against  such  instruction. 

One  might  go  on  to  add,  that  there  is  a  great  resemblance 
between  the  light  of  nature  and  of  revelation,  in  several  other 
respects.  Practical  Christianity,  or  that  faith  and  behaviour 
which  renders  a  man  a  Christian,  is  a  plain  and  obvious 
thing  ;  like  the  common  rules  of  conduct,  with  respect  to  our 
ordinary  temporal  affairs.  The  more  distinct  and  particular 
knowledge  of  those  things,  the  study  of  which  the  Apostle 
calls,  going  on  junto  perfection*  and  of  the  prophetic  parts 

*  Heb.  vi.  1. 


168  THE    CREDIBILITY    OP   REVELATION        [PART   IL 

of  revelation,  like  many  parts  of  natural  and  even  civil  know* 
ledge,  may  require  very  exact  thought  and  careful  considera* 
tion.  The  hinderances,  too,  of  natural  and  of  supernatura. 
light  and  knowledge,  have  been  of  the  same  kind.  And  aa 
it  is  owned  the  whole  scheme  of  Scripture  is  not  yet  under- 
stood, so,  if  it  ever  comes  to  be  understood,  before  the  restitu- 
tion of  all  things,*  and  without  miraculous  interpositions,  it 
must  be  in  the  same  way  as  natural  knowledge  is  come  at  j 
by  the  continuance  and  progress  of  learning  and  of  liberty, 
and  by  particular  persons,  attending  to,  comparing  and  pur- 
suing, intimations  scattered  up  and  down  it,  which  are  over- 
looked and  disregarded  by  the  generality  of  the  wcrld.  Foi 
this  is  the  way  in  which  all  improvements  are  made ;  by 
thoughtful  men  tracing  on  obscure  hints,  as  it  were,  dropped 
us  by  nature  accidentally,  or  which  seem  to  come  into  our 
minds  by  chance.  Nor  is  it  at  all  incredible,  that  a  book,  which 
has  been  so  long  in  the  possession  of  mankind,  should  con- 
tain many  truths  as  yet  undiscovered.  For,  all  the  same 
phenomena,  and  the  same  faculties  of  investigation,  from 
which  such  great  discoveries  in  natural  knowledge  have  been 
made  in  the  present  and  last  age,  were  equally  in  the  pos- 
session of  mankind  several  thousand  years  before.  And  pos- 
sibly it  might  be  intended,  that  events,  as  they  come  to  pass, 
should  open  and  ascertain  the  meaning  of  several  parts  of 
Scripture. 

It  may  be  objected,  that  this  analogy  fails  in  a  material  re- 
spect ;  for  that  natural  knowledge  is  of  little  or  no  conse. 
quence.  But  I  have  been  speaking  of  the  general  instruction, 
which  nature  does  or  does  not  afford  us.  And  besides,  some 
parts  of  natural  knowledge,  in  the  more  common  restrained 
sense  of  the  words,  are  of  the  greatest  consequence  to  the 
ease  and  convenience  of  life.  But  suppose  the  analogy  did, 
as  it  does  not,  fail  in  this  respect,  yet  it  might  be  abundantly 
supplied  from  the  whole  constitution  and  course  of  nature  ; 
which  shows,  that  God  does  not  dispense  his  gifts  according 
to  our  notions  of  the  advantage  and  consequence  they  would 
be  of  to  us.  And  this  in  general,  with  his  method  of  dis« 
pensing  knowledge  in  particular,  would  together  make  oul 
an  analogy  full  to  the  point  before  us. 

But  it  may  be  objected  still  farther,  and  more  generally  ; 
'The  Scripture  represents  the  world  as  in  a  state  of  ruin,  and 
Chrislianity  as  an  expedient  to  recover  it,  to  frelp  in  these  ie> 

*  Acts  iii.  21. 


CHAP.    III.]  LIABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS.  1UU 

epects  where  nature  fails  ;  in  particular  to  supply  the  deficien- 
cies of  natural  light.  Is  it  credible,  then,  that  so  many  ages 
should  have  been  let  pass,  before  a  matter  of  such  a  sort,  of 
so  great  and  so  general  importance,  was  made  known  to  man- 
Kind  ;  and  then  that  it  should  be  made  known  to  so  small  a 
part,  of  them  ?  Is  it  conceivable,  that  this  supply  should  be 
so  very  deficient,  should  have  the  like  obscurity  and  doubtful- 
ness, be  liable  to  the  like  perversions,  in  short,  lie  open  to  all 
the  like  objections,  as  the  light  of  nature  itself?'*  Without 
determining  how  far  this  in  fact  is  so,  I  answer,  it  is  by  no 
means  incredible  that  it  might  be  so,  if  the  light  of  nature  and 
of  revelation  be  from  the  same  hand.  Men  are  naturally  liable 
to  diseases  ;  for  which  God,  in  his  good  providence,  has  pro- 
vided natural  remedies.f  But  remedies  existing  in  nature 
have  been  unknown  to  mankind  for  many  ages  ;  are  known 
but  to  few  now ;  probably  many  valuable  ones  are  not  known 
yet.  Great  has  been,  and  is,  the  obscurity  and  difficulty,  in 
the  nature  and  application  of  them.  Circumstances  seem 
often  to  make  them  very  improper,  where  they  are  absolutely 
necessary.  It  is  after  long  labor  and  study,  and  many  unsuc- 
cessful endeavours,  that  they  are  brought  to  be  as  useful  as 
they  are  ;  after  high  contempt  and  absolute  rejection  of  the 
most  useful  we  have ;  and  after  disputes  and  doubts,  which 
have  seemed  to  be  endless.  The  best  remedies,  too,  when 
unskilfully,  much  more  if  dishonestly,  applied,  may  produce 
new  diseases  ;  'and,  with  the  rightest  application,  the  success 
of  them  is  often  doubtful.  In  many  cases,  they  are  not  at 
all  effectual ;  where  they  are,  it  is  often  very  slowly :  and  the 
application  of  them,  and  the  necessary  regimen  accompany-" 
ing  it,  is,  not  uncommonly,  so  disagreeable,  that  some  will 
not  submit  to  them  ;  and  satisfy  themselves  with  the  excuse, 
that  if  they  would,  it  is  not  certain  whether  it  would  be  suc- 
cessful. And  many  persons,  who  labor  under  diseases,  for 
which  there  are  known  natural  remedies,  are  not  so  happy  as 
to  be  always,  if  ever,  in  the  way  of  them.  In  a  word,  the 
remedies  which  nature  has  provided  for  diseases,  are  neither 
certain  perfect,  nor  universal.  And  indeed  the  same  princi- 
ples of  arguing,  which  would  lead  us  to  conclude  that  they 
must  be  so,  would  lead  us  likewise  to  conclude  that  there  could 
be  no  occasion  for  them ;  i.  e.  that  there  could  be  no  diseases 
at  all.  Ani,  therefore,  our  experience  that  there  are  diseases, 
shows,  that  it  is  credible  beforehand,  upon  supposition  nature 

*  Chap.  6.  f  See  Chap.  ft. 

28 


170  THE    CREDIBILITY    OF    REVELATION  1'ART  II 

has  provided  remedies  for  them,  that  these 'remedies  may  be 
as  by  experience  we  find  they  are,  not  certain,  nor  perfect,  rioi 
universal ;  because  it  shows,  that  the  principles  upon  which 
we  should  expect  the  contrary,  are  fallacious. 

And  now,  what  is  the  just  consequence  from  all  these 
things  ?  Not  that  reason  is  no  judge  of  what  is  offered  to  us  aa 
beiiig  of  divine  revelation.  For  this  would  be  to  infer,  that  \\  e 
are  unable  to  judge  of  any  thing,  because  we  are  unable  to 
judge  of  all  things.  Reason  can,  and  it  ought  to  judge, 
not.  only  of  the  meaning,  but  also  of  the  moralky  and  the 
rjvidence,  of  revelation.  First,  It  is  the  province  of  rea- 
son to  judge  of  the  morality  of  the  Scripture ;  »'.  e.  not  whe- 
ther it  contains  things  different  from  what  we  should  have 
expected  from  a  wise,  just  and  good  Being  ;  for  objoctions 
from  hence  have  been  now  obviated  ;  but  whether  it  contains 
things  plainly  contradictory  to  wisdom,  justice,  or  goodness;  to 
what  the  light  of  nature  teaches  us  of  God.  And  I  know  no- 
thinir  of  this  sort  objected  against  Scripture,  excepting  such  ob- 
jections as  are  formed  upon  suppositions,  which  would  equally 
conclude,  that  the  constitution  of  nature  is  contradictory  to 
wisdom,  justice,  or  goodness  ;  which  most  certainly  it  is  not. 
Indeed,  there  are  some  particular  precepts  in  Scripture,  given 
to  particular  persons,  requiring  actions,  \vhich  would  be  im- 
moral and  vicious,  were  it  not  for  such  precepts.  But  it  is 
easy  to  see,  that  all  these  are  of  such  a  kind,  as  that  the  pre- 
cept changes  the  whole  nature  of  the  case  and  of  the  ac- 
tion ;  and  both  constitutes  and  shows  that  not  to  be  unjust  or 
immoral,  which,  prior  to  the  precept,  must  have  appeared  and 
really  have  been  so:  which  may  well  be,  since  none  ofthe.se 
precepts  are  contrary  to  immutable  morality.  If  it  were  com- 
manded, to  cultivate  the  principles,  and  act  from  the  spirit  of 
treachery,  ingratitude,  cruelty  ;  the  command  would  not  allot 
the  nature  of  the  case,  or  of  the  action  in  any  of  these  instan- 
ces. But  it  is  quite  otherwis-e  in  precepts  which  require  only 
the  doing  an  external  action  ;  for  instance,  taking  away  the 
property  or  life  of  any.  For  men  have  no  right  to  either  life 
or  property,  but  what  arises,  solely  from  the  grant  of  God. 
When  this  grant  is  revoked,  they  cease  to  have  any  rights  at 
ail  in  either  ;  and  when  this  revocation  is  made  known,  aa 
surely  it  is  possible  it  may  be,  it  must  cease  to  be  unjust  to 
deprive  them  of  either.  And  though  a  course  of  external 
acts,  which  without  command  would  be  immoral,  must  make  ' 
an  immoral  habit,  yet  a  few  detached  commands  have  no  such 


CHAP.   III.J  LIABLE    TO    OBJECTIONS.  1 71 

natural  tendency.  I  thought  proper  to  say  thus  much  of  the 
few  Scripture  precepts,  which  require,  not  vicious  actions, 
but  actions  which  would  have  been  vicious,  had  it  not  been 
for  such  precepts  ;  because  they  are  sometimes  weakly  urged 
as  immoral,  and  great  weight  is  laid  upon  objections  drawn 
from  them.  But  to  me  there  seems  no  difficulty  at  all  in 
these  precepts,  but  what  arises  from  their  being  offences ; 
i.  c.  from  their  being  liable  to  be  perverted,  as  indeed  they 
&,re,  by  wicked  designing  men,  to  serve  the  most  horrid  pur- 
poses, and  perhaps,  to  mislead  the  weak  and  enthusiastic.  And 
objections  from  this  head  are  not  objections  against  revela- 
tion, but  against  the  whole  notion  of  religion,  as  a  trial ;  and 
against  the  general  constitution  of  nature.  Secondly.  Rea- 
son is  able  to  judge,  and  must,  of  the  evidence  of  revelation, 
and  of  the  objections  urged  against  that  evidence ;  which 
shall  be  the  subject  of  a  following  chapter.* 

But  the  consequence  of  the  foregoing  observations  is,  that 
the  question  upon  which  the  truth  of  Christianity  depends,  is 
scarce  at  aW,  what  objections  there  are  against  its  scheme, 
since  there  are  none  against  the  morality  of  it ;  but  wh<it  ob- 
jections there  are  against  Us  evidence ;  or,  what  proof  there 
remains  of  it,  after  due  allowances  made  for  the  objections 
against  th\it  proof.  Because  it  has  been  shown,  that  the  06- 
jections  against  Christianity,  as  distinguished  from  objections 
against  its  evidence,  are  frivolous.  For  surely  very  little 
weight,  if  any  at  all,  is  to  be  laid  upon  a  way  of  arguing  and 
objecting,  which,  when  applied  to  the  general  constitution  of 
nature,  experience  shows  not  tobe  conclusive:  and  such, I  think, 
is  the  whole  way  of  objecting  treated  of  throughout  this  chap- 
ter. It  is  resolvable  into  principles,  and  goes  upon  suppositions, 
which  mislead  us  to  think,  that  the  Author  of  nature  would 
not  act,  as  we  experience  he  does  ;  or  would  act,  in  such  and 
such  cases,  as  we  experience  he  does  not  in  like  cases.  But 
the  unreasonableness  of  this  way  of  objecting  will  appear 
yet  more  evidently  from  hence,  that  the  chief  things  thus  ob- 
jected against,  are  justified,  as  shall  be  farther  shown,"}"  by 
distinct,  particular,  and  full  analogies,  in  the  constitution  and 
course  of  nature. 

But  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  as  frivolous  as  objections 
of  the  foregoing  sort  against  revelation  ?.re,  yet,  when  a  sap- 
posed  revelation  is  more  consistent  with  itself,  and  has  a 

*  Chap.  7.  t  Chap.  4,  latter  part ;  and   5,  6. 


172  THE    CREDIBILITY   OP   REVELATION,  &C.  [PiRT  II 

more  general  and  uniform  tendency  to  promote  virtue,  than, 
all  circumstances  considered,  could  have  been  expected  from 
enthusiam  and  political  views  ;  this  is  a  presumptive  proof  of 
its  not  proceeding  from  them,  and  so  of  its  truth  ;  because 
we  are  competent  judges,  what  might  have  been  expected 
frcm  enthusiasm  and  political  views. 


CHAP.  1V-]          CHRISTIANITY  AS  A  SCHEMt,  &C.  173 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  Christianity,  considered  as  a  Scheme  or  Constitution, 

imperfectly  comprehended. 

It  hath  been  now  shown,*  that  the  analogy  of  nature  ren- 
ders it  highly  credible  beforehand,  that,  supposing  a  revelation 
to  be  made,  it  must  contain  many  things  very  different  from 
what  we  should  have  expected,  and  such  as  appear  open  to 
great  objections  ;  and  that  this  observation,  in  good  measure, 
t  kes  off  the  force  of  those  objections,  or  rather  precludes  them. 
But  it  may  be  alleged,  that  this  is  a  very  partial  answer  to 
such  objections,  or  a  very  unsatisfactory  way  of  obviating 
them :  because  it  doth  not  show  at  all,  that  the  things  object- 
ed against  can  be  wise,  just,  and  good  ;  much  less,  that  it 
is  credible  they  are  so.  It  will  therefore  be  proper  to  show 
this  distinctly,  by  applying  to  these  objections  against  the  wis- 
dom, justice,  and  goodness  of  Christianity,  the  answer  abovef 
given  to  the  like  objections  against  the  constitution  of  nature  ; 
before  we  consider  the  particular  analogies  in  the  latter,  to  the 
particular  things  objected  against  in  the  former.  Now,  that 
which  affords  a  sufficient  answer  to  objections  against  the 
wisdom,  justice,  and  goodness  of  the  constitution  of  nature, 
is  its  being  a  constitution,  a  system  or  scheme,  imperfectly 
comprehended ;  a.  scheme,  in  which  means  are  made  use  of 
to  accomplish  ends  ;  and  which  is  carried  on  by  general  laws. 
For,  from  these  things  it  has  been  proved,  not  only  to  be  pos- 
sible, but  also  to  be  credible,  that  those  things  which  are  ob- 
jected against,  may  be  consistent  with  wisdom,  justice,  and 
goodness  ;  nay,  may  be  instances  of  them :  and  even  that 
the  constitution  and  government  of  nature  may  be  perfect  in 
the  highest  possible  degree.  If  Christianity,  then,  be  a  schero«, 
and  ot  the  like  kind,  it  is  evident,  the  like  objections 
t  must  admit  of  the  like  answer.  And, 

*  In  the  foregoing  Chapter. 

T  Part  i.  Chap.  7,  to  w'jich  this  all  along  refers. 


1?4  CHRISTIANITY  A  SCHEME  [PAltT  l\ 

I.  Christianity  is  a  scheme,  quite  beyond  our  comprehen« 
sioii.  The  moral  government  of  God  is  exercised,  by  gradu- 
ally conducting  things  so  in  the  course  of.  his  providence,  tnat 
every  one,  at  length,  and  upon  the  whole,  shall  receive  accord-* 
ing  to  his  deserts ;  and  neither  fraud  nor  violence,  but  truth 
and  right,  shall  finally  prevail.  Christianity  is  a  particular 
scheme  under  this  general  plan  of  providence,  and  a  part  of  it, 
conducive  to  its  completion,  with  regard  to  mankind ;  consist- 
ing itself  also  of  various  parts,  and  a  mysterious  economy 
•A'hicH  has  been  carrying  on  from  the  time  the  world  came 
ktto  its  present  wretched  state,  and  is  still  carrying  on,  for  its 
recovery,  by  a  divine  person,  the  Messiah ;  { who  is  to  gather 
together  in  on«,  the  children  of  God  that  are  scattered  abroad,'* 
and  establish  '  an  everlasting  kingdom,  wherein  dwelleth 
righteousness.'!  And  in  order  to  it,  after  various  manifesta- 
tions of  things,  relating  to  this  great  and  general  scheme  o. 
Providence,  through  a  succession  of  many  ages  ; — ('  for  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  which  was  in  the  prophets,  testified  before- 
hand his  sufferings,  and  the  glory  that  should  follow :  unto 
whom  it  was  revealed,  that  not  unto  themselves,  but  unto  us, 
they  did  minister  the  things  which  are  now  reported  unto  us  by 
them  that  have  preached  the  gospel ;  which  things  the  angels 
desire  to  look  into:'J) — after  various  dispensations,  looking 
forward  and  preparatory  to  this  final  salvation,  '  In  the  fulness 
of  time,'  when  infinite  wisdom  thought  fit,  He,  '  being  in  the 
form  or'  God,  made  himself  ef  no  reputation,  and  took  upon 
himself  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the  likeness 
of  men ;  and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled 
himself,  and  became  obedient  to  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross:  wherefore  God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  arid 
given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every  name ;  that  at  the 
name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven, 
and  things  in  the  earth,  ard  things  under  trie  earth  ;  and  that 
every  tongue  should  confess,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Lord,  to  the 
glory  of  God  the  Father.'§  Parts  likewise  of  this  economy 
are  the  miraculous  mission  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  his  ordi- 
nary assistances  given  to  good  men  ;  the  invisible  government 
which  Christ  at  present  exercises  over  his  Church ;  that  which 
ho.  himself  refers  to  in  these  words, ||  'In  my  father's  house 
are  many  mansions — I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you ;'  and 
Ids  fu'ure  return  to  '  judge  the  world  in  righteousness,  and 

*  John  xi.  52.  t  2  Pet.  iii  IS. 

t  1  Pet.  i.  11, 12.  $  Phil  it 

0  John  xiv.  «. 


CHAP.  IV. J         IMPERFECTLY    COMPREHENDED.  175 

completely  re-establish  the  kingdom  of  God.  '  For  the  Fa- 
ther judgeth  no  man  ;  but  hath  committed  all  judgment  unto 
the  Son  :  that  all  men  should  honour  the  Son,  even  as  thej 
•  honour  the  Father.*  All  power  is  given  unto  him  in  hoaven 
and  in  earth."f  And  he  must  reign,  till  he  hath  put  all  ene- 
mies under  his  feet.  Then  cometh  the  end,  when  he  shall 
have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to  God,  even  the  Father ; 
when  he  shall  have  put  down  all  rule,  and  all  authority  and 
power.  And  whtn  all  things  shall  be  subdued  unto  him, 
then  shall  the  Son  also  himself  be  subject  unto  him  that  put 
all  things  under  him,  that  God  may  be  all  in  all.'J  Now 
little,  surely,  need  be  said  to  show,  that  this  system,  or  scheme 
of  things,  is  but  imperfectly  comprehended  by  us.  The 
Scripture  expressly  asserts  it  to  be  so.  And,  indeed,  one 
cannot  read  a  passage  relating  to  this  'great  mystery  of 
godliness,'§  but  what  immediately  runs  up  into  something 
which  shows  us  our  ignorance  in  it ;  as  every  thing  in  nature 
shows  us  our  ignorance  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  And 
whoever  will  seriously  consider  that  part  of  the  Christian 
scheme  which  is  revealed  in  Scripture,  will  find  so  much 
more  unrevealed,  as  will  convince  him,  that,  to  all  the  purpo- 
ses of  judging  and  objecting,  we  know  as  little  of  it,  as  of  the 
constitution  of  nature.  Our  ignorance,  therefore,  is  as  much 
an  answer  to  our  objections  against  the  perfection  of  one,  as 
against  the  perfection  of  the  other. 

II.  It  is  obvious,  too,  that  in  the  Christian  dispensation,  as 
rnvich  as  in  the  natural  scheme  of  things,  means  are  made  use 
of  to  accomplish  ends.     And  the  observation  of  this  furnishes 
us  with  the  same  answers  to  objections  against  the  perfection 
of  Christianity,  as  to  objections  of  the  like  kind  against  the  con- 
stitution of  nature.     It  shows  the  credibility,  that  the  things 
objected  against,  how  foolish^  soever  they  appear  to  men, 
may  be  the  very  best  means  of  accomplishing  the  very  best 
ends.     And   their  appearing  foolishness  is  no  presumption 
against  this,  in  a  scheme  so  greatly  beyond  our  comprehen- 
sion. 

III.  The  credibility,  that  the  Christian  dispensation  may 
have  been,  all  along,  carried  on  by  general  laws,      no  less  than 
the  course  of  nature,  may  require  to  be  more  distinctly  made 
out.    Consider,  then,  upon  what  ground  it  is  we  say,  that  the 


*  John  v.  22,  23.          f  Matt,  xxviii.  18.        J  1  Cor.  xv. 
(lTim.iii.16.  1 1  Cor.  i.  18,  &«. 


176  CHRISTIANITY    AS    A    SCHEME  [PART  It 

whole  common  course  of  nature  is  carried  on  according  to  gen- 
eral fore-ordained  laws.  We  know,  indeed,  several  of  the  gen- 
eral laws  of  matter;  and  a  great  part  of  the  natural  behaviour 
of  living  agents  is  reducible  to  general  laws.  But  we  know,  in 
a  manner,  nothing,  by  what  laws,  storms,  and  tempests,  earth- 
quakes, famine,  pestilence,  become  the  instruments  of  destruc- 
tion to  mankind.  And  the  laws  by  which  persons  born  into 
the  world  at  such  a  time  and  place,  are  of  such  capacities,  ge 
niuses,  tempers  ;  the  laws,  by  which  thoughts  come  into  oui 
mind,  in  a  multitude  of  cases  ;  and  by  which  innumerable 
things  happen,  of  the  greatest  influence  upon  the  affairs  ani 
state  of  the  world :  these  laws  are  so  wholly  unknown  to  us, 
that  we  call  the  events,  which  come  to  pass  by  them,  acci- 
dental ;  though  all  reasonable  men  know  certainly,  that  there 
cannot,  in  reality,  be  any  such  thing  as  chance  ;  and  conclude, 
:hat  the  things  which  have  this  appearance,  are  the  result  oi 
general  laws,  and  may  be  reduced  into  them.  It  is  then  but 
an  exceeding  little  way, .  and  in  but  a  very  few  respects,  that 
we  can  trace  up  the  natural  course  of  things  before  us,  to 
general  laws.  And  it  is  only  from  analogy  that  we  conclude 
the  whole  of  it  to  be  capable  of  being  reduced  into  them  . 
only  from  our  seeing,  that  part  is  so.  It  is  from  our  finding, 
that  the  course  of  nature,  in  some  respects  and  so  far.  goes  on 
by  general  laws,  that  we  conclude  this  of  the  rest.  And  if 
that  be  a  just  ground  for  such  a  conclusion,  it  is  a  just  ground 
also,  if  not  to  conclude,  yet  to  comprehend,  to  render  it  suppos- 
able  and  credible,  which  is  sufficient  for  answering  objections, 
that  God's  miraculous  interpositions  may  have  been,  all  along, 
in  like  manner,  by  general  laws  of  wisdom.  Thus,  that  mira- 
culous powers  should  be  exerted  at  such  times,  upon  such 
occasions,  in  such  degrees  and  manners,  and  with  regard  to 
such  persons,  rather  than  others  ;  that  the  affairs  of  the 
world,  being  permitted  to  go  on  in  their  natural  course  so  far, 
should,  just  at  such  a  point,  have  a  new  direction  given  them 
by  miraculous  interpositions  ;  that  these  interpositions  should 
be  exactly  in  such  degrees  and  respects  only :  all  this  may 
have  been  by  general  laws.  These  laws  are  unknown, 
indeed,  to  xis ;  but  no  more  unknown,  than  the  laws  from 
whence  it  is,  that  some  die  as  soon  as  they  are  born,  and 
others  live  to  extreme  old  age  ;  that  one  man  is  so  superior  to 
another  in  understanding;  with  innumerable  more  things, 
which,  as  was  before  observed,  we  cannot  reduce  to  any  laws 
or  rules  at  all,  though  it  is  taken  for  granted,  they  are  aa 
much  reducible  to  general  ones  as  gravitation.  Now,  if  tlv 


CHAP.  IV.  IMPERFECTLY    COMPREHENDED.  177 

revealed  dispensations  of  Providence,  and  miraculous  interpo- 
mtions,  be  by  general  laws,  as  well  as  God's  ordinary  govern- 
ment in  the  course  of  nature,  made  known  by  reason  and 
experience  j  there  is  no  more  reason  to  expect  that  every  exi- 
gence, as  it  arises,  should  be  provided  for  by  these  genera] 
laws  of  miraculous  interposition,  than  that  every  exigence  in 
nature  should,  by  the  general  laws  of  nature :  yet  there  might 
be  wise  and  good  reasons,  that  miraculous  interpositions  should 
be  by  general  laws  ;  and  that  these  laws  should  not  be  broken 
in  upon,  or  deviated  from,  by  other  miracles. 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  the  appearances  of  deficiencies  and 
irregularities  in  nature,  is  owing  to  its  being  a  scheme  but  in 
part  made  known  and  of  such  a  certain  particular  kind  in 
other  respects.  Now  we  see  no  more  reason,  why  the  frame 
and  course  of  nature  should  be  such  a  scheme,  than  why 
Christianity  should.  And  that  the  former  is  such  a  scheme, 
renders  it  credible,  that  the  latter,  upon  supposition  of  its 
truth,  may  be  so  too.  And  as  it  is  manifest,  that  Christianity 
is  a  scheme  revealed  but  in  part,  and  a  scheme  in  which 
means  are  made  use  of  to  accomplish  ends,  like  to  that  of 
nature ;  so  the  credibility  that  it  may  have  been  all  along 
carried  on  by  general  laws  no  less  than  the  course  of  nature, 
has  been  distinctly  proved.  And  from  all  this  it  is  beforehand 
credible,  that  there  might,  I  think  probable  that  there  would, 
be  the  like  appearance  of  deficiencies  and  irregularities  in 
Christianity  as  in  nature ;  i.  e.  that  Christianity  would  be 
liable  to  the  like  objections,  as  the  frame  of  nature.  And 
these  objections  are  answered  by  these  observations  concern- 
ing Christianity ;  as  the  like  objections  against  the  frame  of 
nature,  are  answered  by  the  like  observations  concerning  the 
frame  of  nature. 


The  objections  against  Christianity,  considered  as  a  mattei 
of  fact,  having,  in  general,  been  obviated  in  the  preceding 
chapter :  and  the  same,  considered  as  made  against  the  wis- 
dom and  goodness  of  it,  having  been  obviated  in  this ;  the 
next  thing,  according  to  the  method  projwsed,  is  to  show,  that 
the  principal  objections  in  particular,  against  Christianity, 
may  be  answered  by  particular  and  full  analogies  in  nature. 
AnJ  as  one  of  them  is  made  against  the  whole  scheme  of  it 


178  CHRISTIANITY   AS   A    SCHEME  [PART  II. 

together,  as  just  now  described,  I  choose  to  consider  it  here, 
rather  than  in  a  distinct  chapter  by  itself.  The  thing  objected 
against  this  scheme  of  the  gospel  is,  '  That  it  seems  to  sup- 
pose God  was  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  a  long  series  of  in- 
tricate means,  in  order  to  accomplish  his  ends,  the  recovery 
and  salvation  of  the  world  ;  in  like  sort  as  men,  for  want  of 
understanding,  or  power,  not  being  able  to  corne  at  their  ends 
directly,  are  forced  to  go  round  about  ways,  and  make  use  of 
many  perplexed  contrivances  to  arrive  at  them.'  Now,  every 
thing  which  we  see  shows  the  folly  of  this,  considered  as  an 
objection  against  the  truth  of  Christianity.  For,  according 
to  our  manner  of  conception,  God  makes  use  of  variety  of 
means,  what  we1  often  think  tedious  ones,  in  the  natural 
course  of  providence,  for  the  accomplishment  of  all  his  ends 
Indeed,  it  is  certain,  there  is  somewhat  in  this  matter  quite 
beyond  our  comprehension ;  but  the  mystery  is  as  great  in 
nature  as  in  Christianity.  We  know  what  we  ourselves  aim 
at,  as  final  ends  ;  and  what  courses  we  take,  merely  as  means 
conducing  to  those  ends.  But  we  are  greatly  ignorant,  how 
far  things  are  considered  by  the  Author  of  nature,  under  the 
single  notion  of  means  and  ends  ;  so  as  that  it  may  be  said, 
this  is  merely  an  end,  and  that  merely  means,  in  his  regard. 
And  whether  there  be  not  some  peculiar  absurdity  in  our  very 
manner  of  conception  concerning  this  matter  somewhat  con- 
tradictory, arising  from  our  extremely  imperfect  views  of 
things,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  However,  thus  much  is  mani- 
fest, that  the  whole  natural  world  and  government  of  it  is  a 
scheme,  or  system ;  not  a  fixed,  but  a  progressive  one :  a 
scheme,  in  which  the  operation  of  various  means  takes  up  a 
great  length  of  time,  before  the  ends  they  tend  to  can  be  at 
tained.  The  change  of  seasons,  the  ripening  of  the  fruits  of 
the  sarth,  the  very  history  of  a  flower,  is  an  instance  of  this  ; 
and  so  is  human  life.  Thus,  vegetable  bodies,  and  those  o< 
animals,  though  possibly  formed  at  once,  yet  grow  up  by  de- 
grees to  a  mature  state.  And  thus  rational  agents,  who 
animate  these  latter  bodies,  are  naturally  directed  to  form, 
each  his  own  manners  and  character,  by  the  gradual  gaining 
of  knowledge  and  experience,  and  by  a  long  course  of  action. 
<  )nr  existence  is  not  only  successive,  as  it  must  be  of  necessity, 
but  one  state  of  our  life  and  being  is  appointed  by  God  to  be 
a  preparation  for  another ;  and  that,  to  be  the  .means  of  at- 
taining to  another  succeeding  one:  Infancy  to  childhood; 
childhood  to  youth ;  youth  to  mature  age.  Men  are  impa- 
tient, and  for  precipitating  things :  but  the  Author  of  nature 


T.  I^.}          IMPERFECTLY    COMPREHENDED.  170 

tppears  deliberate  throughout  his  operations  ;  accomplishing 
his  natural  ends  by  slow  successive  steps.  And  there  is  a 
plan  of  things  beforehand  laid  out,  which,  from  the  nature  of 
it,  requires  various  systems  of  means,  as  well  as  length  of 
time,  in  order  to  the  carrying  on  its  several  parts  into  execu- 
tion. Thus,  in  the  daily  course  of  natural  providence,  God 
operates  in  the  very  same  manner  as  in  the  dispensation  of 
Christianity :  making  one.  thing  subservient  to  another ;  this, 
to  somewhat  farther ;  and  so  on,  through  a  progressive  series 
of  means,  which  extend,  both  backward  and  forward,  be3^ond 
our  utmost  view.  Of  this  manner  of  operation,  every  thing 
we  330,  in  the  course  of  nature  is  as  much  an  instance,  as  auy 
part  rf  the  Christian  dispensation, 

10 


li$0  THB   APPOINTMENT   OF 


CHAPTER  V. 

Of  the  particular  System  of  Christianity  ;  the  Appointment 
of  a  Mediator,  and  the  Redemption  of  the  World  by  kim. 

THERE  is  not,  I  think,  any  thing  relating  to  Christianity, 
which  has  been  more  objected  against,  than  the  mediation  oi 
Christ,  in  some  or  other  of  its  parts.  Yet,  upon  thorough 
consideration,  there  seems  nothing  less  justly  liable  to  it. 
For, 

I.  The  whole  analogy  of  nature  removes  all  imagined  pre- 
sumption against  the  general  notion  of  '  a  Mediator  between 
God  and  man.'*  For  we  find,  all  living  creatures  are  brought 
into  the  world,  and  their  life  in  infancy  is  preserved,  by  the 
instrumentality  of  others  ;  and  every  satisfaction  of  it,  some 
way  or  other,  is  bestowed  by  the  like  means.  So  that  the 
visible  government,  which  God  exercises  over  the  world,  is  by 
the  instrumentality  and  mediation  of  others.  And  how  fai 
his  invisible  government  be  or  be  not  so,  it  is  impossible  to 
determine  at  all  by  reason.  And  the  supposition,  that  part 
of  it  is  so,  appears,  to  say  the  least,  altogether  as  credible  aa 
the  contrary.  There  is  then  no  sort  of  objection,  from  the 
light  of  nature,  against  the  general  notion  of  a  mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man,  considered  as  a  doctrine  of  Christianity, 
or  as  an  appointment  in  this  dispensation ;  since  we  find,  by 
experience,  that  God  does  appoint  mediators,  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  good  and  evil  to  us,  the  instruments  of  his  justice 
and  his  mercy.  And  the  objection  here  referred  to  is  urged, 
not  agaiiist  mediation  in  that  high,  eminent,  and  peculiar 
sense,  in  which  Christ  is  our  mediator ;  but  absolutely  against 
the  whole  notion  itself  of  a  mediator  at  all. 

U.  As  we  must  suppose,  that  the  world  is  under   tba 


tHAP.  V.  j  A    MEDIATOR    AND    REDEEMER.  181 

proper  moral  government  of  God,  or  in  a  state  ol' religion,  be- 
fore \ve  can  enter  into  consideration  of  the  revealed  doctrine 
concerning  the  redemption  of  it  by  Christ ;  so  that  supposi- 
tion is  here  to  be  distinctly  taken  notice  of.  Now,  the  divine 
moral  government  which  religion  teaches  us,  implies,  that  the 
consequence  of  vice  shall  be  misery,  in  some  future  state,  by 
the  righteous  judgment  of  God.  That  such  consequent  pun- 
ishment shall  take  effect  by  his  appointment,  is  necessarily 
implied.  But,  as  it  is  not  in  any  sort  to  be  supposed,  that  we 
are  made  acquainted  with  all  the  ends  or  reasons  for  which 
it  is  fit  future  punishment  should  be  inflicted,  or  why  God 
has  appointed  such  and  such  consequent  misery  should  fol- 
low vice ;  and  as  we  are  altogether  in  the  dark,  how  or  in 
what  manner  it  shall  follow,  by  what  immediate  occasions, 
or  by  the  instrumentality  of  what  means;  there  is  PJ  ab- 
surdity in  supposing,  it  may  follow  in  a  way  analogous  to 
that  in  which  many  miseries  follow  such  and  such  courses 
of  action  at  present;  poverty,  sickness,  infamy,  untimely 
death  by  diseases,  death  from  the  hands  of  civil  justice. 
There  is  no  absurdity  in  supposing  future  punishment,  may 
follow  wickedness  of  course,  as  we  speak,  or  in  the  way  of 
natural  consequences,  from  God's  original  constitution  of  the 
world ;  from  the  nature  he  has  given  us,  and  from  the  condi 
tion  in  which  he  places  us  :  or,  in  like  manner,  as  a  person 
rashly  trifling  upon  a  precipice,  in  the  way  of  natural  conse- 
quence, falls  down ;  in  the  way  of  natural  consequence,  breaks 
his  limbs,  suppose  ;  in  the  way  of  natural  consequence  of  this, 
without  help,  perishes. 

Some  good  men  may,  perhaps,  be  offended,  with  hearing 
it  spoken  of  as  a  supposable  thing,  that  the  future  punish- 
ments of  wickedness  .may  be  in  the  way  of  natural  conse- 
quence ;  as  if  this  were  taking  the  execution  of  justice  out  of 
the  hands  of  God,  and  giving  it  to  nature.  But  they  should 
remember  that  when  things  come  to  pass  according  to  the 
course  of  nature,  this  does  not  Tiinder  them  from  being  his 
doing,  who  is  the  God  of  nature  ;  and  that  the  Scripture  as- 
cribes those,  punishments  to  divine  justice,  which  are  known 
to  be  natural ;  and  which  must  be  called  so,  when  distin- 
guished from  such  as  are  miraculous.  But,  after  all,  this 
Bupposition,  or  rather  this  way  of  speaking,  is  here  nad?  use 
of  only  by  way  of  illustration  of  the  subject  before  us.  For, 
since  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  future  punishment  of 
wickedness  is  not  a  matter  of  arbitrary  appointment,  but  of 
reason,  equity,  and  justice  ;  it  comes,  for  aught  I  soe,  to  th 


182  THE   APPOINTMENT   OF  [FART  II. 

same  thing,  -\vhether  it  is  supposed  to  be  inflicted  in  a  way 
analogous  to  that  in  which  the  temporal  punishments  of  vice 
and  folly  are  inflicted,  or  in  any  other  way.  And  though 
there  were  a  difference,  it  is  allowable  in  the  present  case  to 
make  this  supposition,  plainly  not  an  incredible  one,  That 
future  punishment  may  follow  wickedness  in  the  way  of 
natural  consequence,  or  according  to  some  general  laws  of 
government  already  established  in  the  universe. 

III.  Upon  this  supposition,  or  even  without  it,  we  may 
observe  somewhat,  much  to  the  present  purpose,  in  the  con- 
stitution of  nature,  or  appointments  of  Providence :  the  pro- 
vision which  is  made,  that  all  the  bad  natural  consequences 
of  men's  actions  should  not  always  actually  follow  ;  or,  that 
such  bad  consequences,  as,  according  to  the  settled  course 
of  things,  would  inevitably  have  followed,  if  not  prevented, 
should,  in  certain  degrees,  be  prevented.  We  are  apt,  pre- 
sumptuously, to  imagine,  that  the  world  might  have  been  so 
constituted,  as  that  there  would  not  have  been  any  such  thing 
as  misery  or  evil.  On  the  contrary,  we  find  the  Author  of 
nature  permits  it.  But  then,  he  has  provided  reliefs,  and, 
in  many  cases,  perfect  remedies  for  it,  after  some  pains  and 
difficulties  ;  reliefs  and  remedies  even  for  that  evil,  which  is 
the  fruit  of  our  own  misconduct,  and  which,  in  the  course  of 
nature,  would  have  continued,  and  ended  in  our  destruction, 
but  for  such  remedies.  And  this  is  an  instance  both  of  se- 
verity and  of  indulgence,  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  Thus, 
all  the  bad  consequences,  now  mentioned,  of  a  man's  trifling 
upon  a  precipice,  might  be  prevented.  And,  though  all  were 
not,  yet  some  of  them  might,  by  proper  interposition,  if  not 
rejected ;  by  another's  coming  to  the  rash  man's  relief,  with 
nis  own  laying  hold  on  that  relief,  in  .such  sort  as  the  case 
requires.  Persons  may  do*  a  great  deal  themselves  towards 
preventing  the  bad  consequences  of  their  follies  ;  and  more 
may  bs  done  by  themselves,  together  with  the  assistance  of 
oth  3rs,  their  fellow  creatures ;  which  assistance  nature  re- 
quires and  prompts  us  to.  This  is  the  general  constitution  of 
the  world.  "Now,  suppose  it  had  been  so  constituted,  that 
after  such  actions  were  done,  as  were  foreseen  naturally  to 
draw  after  them  misery  to  the  doer,  it  should  have  been  no 
more  in  human  power  to  hare  prevented  that  naturally  con- 
sequent misery,  in  any  instance,  than  it  is,  in  all ;  no  one  can 
say,  whether  such  a  more  severe  constitution  of  things  might 
not  yet  have  been  really  good.  But  that,  on  the  contrary, 
provision  is  mate  by  naluro,  thai  we  may  and  do,  to  so  great 


CHAP.  V.]  A    MEDIATOR   AND    REDEEMER.  183 

degree,  prevent  the  bad  natural  effects  of  our  follies  ;  this 
may  be  called  mercy,  or  compassion,  in  the  original  constitu- 
tion of  the  world ;  compassion,  as  distinguished  from  good- 
ness in  general.  And,  the  whole  krtown  constitution  and 
course  of  things  affording  us  instances  of  such  compassion, 
it  would  be  according  to  the  analogy  of  nature  to  hope,  that, 
however  ruinous  the  natural  consequences  of  vice  might  be, 
from  the  genera.1  laws  of  God's  government  over  the  universe?, 
yet  provision  might  be  made,  possibly  might  have  been 
originally  made,  for  preventing  those  ruinous  consequences 
from  inevitably  following ;  at  least  from  following  universally, 
and  in  all  cases. 

Many,  I  am  sensible,  will  wonder  at  finding  this  made  a 
question,  or  spoken  of  as  in  any  degree  doubtful.  The  gene- 
rality of  mankind  are  so  far  from  having  that  awful  sense  of 
things,  which  the  present  state  of  vice  and  misery  and  dark- 
ness seems  to  make  but  reasonable,  that  they  have  scarce  any 
apprehension,  or  thought  at  all,  about  this  matter,  any  way  ; 
and  some  serious  persons  may  have  spoken  unadvisedly  con- 
cerning it.  But  let  us  observe,  what  we  experience  to  be,  and 
what,  from  the  ve'ry  constitution  of  nature,  cannot  but  be,  the 
consequences  of  irregular  and  disorderly  behaviour ;  even  of 
such  rashness,  wilfulness,  neglects,  as  we  scarce  call  vicious. 
Now,  it  is  natural  to  apprehend,  that  the  bad  consequences  of 
irregularity  will  be  greater,  in  proportion  as  the  irregularity  is 
so.  And  there  is  no  comparison  between  these  irre<?ularities) 
and  the  greater  instances  of  vice,  or  a  dissolute  profligate  dis- 
regard to  all  religion  ;  if  there  be  any  thing  at  all  in  religion 
For,  consider  what  it  is  for  creatures,  moral  agents,  presump 
tuously  to  introduce  that  confusion  and  misery  into  the  king- 
dom of  God,  which  mankind  have,  in  fact,  introduced  ;  to  blas- 
pheme the  sovereign  Lord  of  all ;  to  contemn  his  authority  | 
to  be  injurious  to  the  degree  they  are,  to  their  fellow-creatures, 
the  creatures  of  God.  Add,  that  the  effects  of  vice,  in  the  pre- 
sent world,  are  often  extreme  misery,  irretrievable  ruin,  and 
even  death :  and,  upon  putting  all  this  together,  it  will  appear, 
that  as  no  one  can  say,  in  what  degree  fatal  the  unprevented 
consequences  of  vice  may  be,  according  to  the  general  rule  of 
divine  government ;  so  it  is  by  no  means  intuitively  certain, 
how  far  these  consequences  could  possibly,  in  the  nature  of  the 
thing,  be  prevented,  consistently  with  the  eternal  rule  of  right, 
or  with  what  is,  in  fact,  the  moral  constitution  of  nature.'. 
However,  there  would  be  large  ground  to  hope,  that  the  uni- 
versal government  was  not  so  severely  strict,  but  that  there 


184  THE    APPOINTMENT   OF  PART  II, 

was  room  for  pardon,  or  for  having  those  penal  consequence* 
prevented.     Yet, 

IV.  There  seems  no  probability,  that  any  thing  we  could 
do,  would  alone,  and  ofitself,  prevent  them  ;  prevent  their  fol- 
lowing, or  being  inflicted.  But  one  would  think,  at  least,  it 
were  impossible  that  the  contrary  should  be  thought  certain 
For  we  are  not  acquainted  with  the  whole  of  the  case.  We 
are  not  infonned  of  all  the  reasons,  which  render  it  fit  that 
future  punishments  should  be  inflicted  ;  and,  therefore,  cannot 
know,  whether  any  thing  we  could  do  would  make  such  an 
alteration,  as  to  render  it  fit  that  they  should  be  remitted.  We 
do  not  know,  what  the  whole  natural  or  appointed  consequen- 
ces of  vice  are,  nor  in  what  way  they  would  follow,  if  not  pre 
vented ;  and,  therefore,  can  in  no  sort  say,  whether  we  could 
do  any  thing,  which  would  be  sufficient  to  prevent  them 
Our  ignorance  being  thus  manifest,  let  us  recollect  the  analogy 
of  nature,  or  providence.  For  though  this  may  be  but  a  slight 
ground  to  raise  a  positive  opinion  upon  in  this  matter,  yet  it  is 
sufficient  to  answer  a  mere  arbitrary  assertion,  without  any 
kind  of  evidence,  urged  by  way  of  objection  against  a  doctrine 
the  proof  of  which  is  not  reason,  but  revelation.  Consider,, 
then,  people  ruin  their  fortunes  by  extravagance  ;  they  bring 
diseases  upon  themselves  by  excess  ;  they  incur  the  penalties 
of  civil  laws,  and  surely  civil  government  is  natural :  will  sor- 
row for  these  follies  past,  and  behaving  well  for  the  future, 
alone  and  of  itself,  prevent  the  natural  consequences  of  them  ? 
On  the  contrary,  men's  natural  abilities  of  helping  themselves 
are  often  impaired ;  or,  if  not,  yet  they  are  forced  to  be  be- 
holden to  the  assistance  of  others,  upon  several  accounts,  and 
in  different  ways:  assistance  which  they  would  have  had  no 
occasion  for,  had  it  not  been  for  their  misconduct ;  but  which, 
in  the  disadvantageous  condition  they  have  reduced  them- 
selves to,  is  absolutely  necessary  to  their  recovery,  and  re- 
trieving their  affairs.  Mow,  since  this  is  our  case,  considering 
ourselves  merely  as  inhabitants  of  this  world,  and  as  having 
a  temporal  interest  here,  under  the  natural  government  of 
God,  which,  however,  has  a  great  deal  moral  in  it ;  why  is 
it  not  supposable,  that  this  may  be  our  case  also  in  our  more 
important  capacity,  as  under  his  perfect  moral  government, 
and  having  a  more  general  and  future  interest  depending  ?  If 
we  have  misbehaved  in  this  higher  capacity,  and  rendered 
ourselves  obnoxious  to  the  future  punishment  which  God  has 
annexed  to  vice  ;  it  is  plainly  credible,  that  behaving  well  for 


CHAP.  V.]  A   MEDIATOR   AND    REDEEMER.  185 

the  time  to  come,  may  be — not  useless,  God  forbid — but 
wholly  insufficient,  alone  and  of  itself,  to  "prevent  that  punish- 
ment ;  or  to  put  us  in  the  condition  which  we  should  have 
been  in,  had  we  preserved  our  innocence. 

And  though  we  ought  to  reason  with  all  reverence,  when- 
ever we  reason  concerning  the  divine  conduct,  yet  it  may  be 
added,  that  it  is  clearly  contrary  to  all  our  notions  of  govern- 
ment, as  well  as  to  what  is,  in  fact,  the  general  constitution 
of  nature,  to  suppose  that  doing  well  for  the  future,  should 
in  all  cases,  prevent  all  the  judicial  bad  consequences  of  hav- 
ing done  evil,  or  all  the  punishment  annexed  to  disobedience. 
And  we  have  manifestly  nothing  from  whence  to  determine, 
in  what  degree,  and  in  what  cases,  reformation  would  pre 
vent  this  punishment,  even  supposing  that  it  would  in  some. 
And,  though  the  efficacy  of  repentance  itself  alone,  to  pre- 
vent what  mankind  had  rendered  themselves  obnoxious  to, 
and  recover  what  they  had  forfeited,  is  now  insisted  upon,  in 
opposition  to  Christianity  ;  yet,  by  the  general  prevalence  of 
propitiatory  sacrifices  over  the  heathen  world,  this  notion,  of 
repentance  alone  being  sufficient  to  expiate  guilt,  appears  to 
be  contrary  to  the  general  sense  of  mankind. 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  had  the  laws,  the  general  laws  of 
God's  government,  been  permitted  to  operate,  without  any 
interposition  in  our  behalf  the  future  punishment,  for  aught 
we  know  to  the  contrary,  or  have  any  reason  to  think,  must 
inevitably  have  followed,  notwithstanding  any  thing  we  could 
have  done  to  prevent  it.  Now, 

V.  In  this  darkness,  or  this  light  of  nature,  call  it  which  you 
please,  revelation  comes  in;  confirms  every  doubting  fear,  which 
could  enter  into  the  heart  of  man,  concerning  the  future  un- 
prevented  consequence  of  wickedness  ;  supposes  the  world 
to  be  in  a  state  of  ruin,  (a  supposition  which  seems  the  very 
ground  of  the  Christian  dispensation,  and  which,  if  notproveable 
by  reason,  yet  it  is  in  no  wise  contrary  to  it ;)  teaches  us,  too, 
that  the  rules  of  divine  government  are  such,  as  not  to  admit  of 
pardon  immediately  and  directly  upon  repentance,  or  by  the 
sole  efficacy  of  it ;  but  then  teaches,  at  the  same  time,  what 
nature  might  justly  have  hoped,  that  the  moral  government  of 
the  universe  was  not  so  rigid,  but  that  there  was  room  for  an 
interposition  to  avert  the  fatal  consequences  of  vice  ;  which 
therefore,  by  this  means,  does  admit  of  pardon.  Revelation 
^ach<is  us,  that  the  unknown  'laws  of  God's  more  general 
government,  no  less  than  the  particular  laws  by  which  we 


186  THE    APPOINTMENT    OF  [PART  II, 

experience  he  governs  us  at  present,  are  compassionate,*  a« 
well  as  good,  in  the  more  general  notion  of  goodness  ;  and 
that  he  hath  mercifully  provided,  that  there  should  be  a» 
interposition  to  prevent  the  destruction  of  human  kind,  what- 
ever th,it  destruction  unprevented  would  have  been.  '  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth,'  not,  to  be  sure,  in  a  speculative,  but  in 
a.  practical  sense, '  that  whosoever  believelh  in  him  should  not 
perish;'"}"  gave  his  son  in  the  same  way  of  goodness  to  the 
world,  as  he  affords  particular  persons  the  friendly  assistance 
of  their  fellow-creatures,  when,  without  it,  their  temporal  ruin 
would  be  the  certain  consequence  of  their  follies ;  in  the 
same  way  of  goodness,  I  say,  though  in  a  transcendent  and 
infinitely  higher  degree.  And  the  Son  of  God  '  loved  us,  and 
have  himself  for  us/  with  a  love  which  he  himself  compares 
to  that  of  human  friendship  ;  though,  in  this  case,  all  com- 
parisons must  fall  infinitely  short  of  the  thing  intended  to 
be  illustrated  by  them.  He  interposed  in  such  a  manner,  as 
was  necessary  and  effectual  to  prevent  that  execution  of  jus- 
tice upon  sinners,  which  God  had  appointed  should  otherwise 
have  been  executed  upon  them  ;  or  in  such  a  manner,  as 
to  prevent  that  punishment  from  actually  following,  which, 
according  to  the  general  laws  of  divine  government,  must 
have  followed  the  sins  of  the  world,  had  it  not  been  for  such 
interposition.J 

If  any  thing  here  said  should  appear,  upon  first  thought, 
inconsistent  with  Jivine  goodness,  a  second,  I  am  persuaded, 

*  Page  1 28,  &c.  t  John  iii.  1 6. 

J  It  cannot,  I  suppose,  be  imagined,  even  by  the  most  cursory  reader, 
that  it  is,  in  any  sort,  affirmed,  or  implied,  in  any  thing  said  in  this  chap- 
ter, that  none  can  have  the  benefit  of  the  general  redemption,  but  sucb 
as  have  the  advantage  of  being  made  acquainted  with  it  in  the  present 
life. — But,  it  may  be  needful  to  mention,  that  several  questions,  which 
have  been  brought  into  the  subject  before  us,  and  determined,  are  not  in 
the  least  entered  into  here;  questions  which  have  been,  I  fear,  rr.shly 
determined,  and,  perhaps,  with  equal  rashness,  contrary  ways.  For  in- 
stance  :  Whether  God  could  have  saved  the  world  by  other  means  than 
the  death  of  Christ,  consistently  with  the  generallaws  of  his  government  ? 
And,  had  not  Christ  came  into  the  world,  what  would  have  been  the 
future  condition  of  the  better  sort  of  ir.sn  ;  those  just  persons  over  the 
face  of  the  earth,  for  whom  Manassci  in  his  prayer  asserts,  repentance 
was  not  appointed?  The  meaning  of  the  first  of  these  questions  is 
greatly  ambiguous  ;  and  neither  of  them  can  properly  be  answered, 
•without  going  upon  that  infinitely  absurd  supposition,  that  we  know 
the  whole  of  the  case.  Ar.d,  perhaps,  the  very  inquiry,  what  would  havi 
followed  if  God  had  not  done  as  he  has  ?  may  have  in  it  some  very  great 
Impropriety  ;  and  ous;ht  not  to  be  carried  on  any  farther  than  is  neces- 
sary to  help  our  partial  and  inadequate  conceptions  of  things. 


CHAP.  V.]  A    MEDIATOR   AND    REDEEMER.  187 

will  entirely  remove  that  appearance.  For  were  \ve  to  sup- 
pose the  constitution  of  things  to  be  such,  as  that  the  whole 
creation  must  have  perished,  had  it  not  been  for  somowhat. 
which  God  had  appointed  should  be  in  order  to  prevent  that 
ruin ;  even  this  supposition  would  not  be  inconsistent,  in  any  de- 
gree, with  the  most  absolutely  perfect  goodness.  But  still  itmay 
be  thought,  that  this  whole  manner  of  treating  the  subject  be- 
fore us,  supposes  mankind  to  be  naturally  in  a  very  strange 
state.  And  truly  so  it  does.  But  it  is  not  Christianity  which 
has  put  us  into  this  state.  Whoever  will  consider  the  manifold 
miseries,  and  tb<5  extreme  wickedness  of  the  world  ;  that  the 
best  have  great  wrongnesses  with  themselves,  which  they 
con: plain  of,  and  endeavour  to  amend ;  but,  that  the  gene- 
rality grow  more  profligate  and  corrupt  with  age  :  that  hea- 
then moralists  thought  the  present  state  to  be  a  state  of  punish- 
ment; and,  what  might  be  added,  that  the  earth,  our  habitation, 
has  the  appearance  of  being  a  ruin :  whoever,  I  say,  will  con- 
sider all  these,  and  some  other  obvious  things,  will  think  he 
has  little  reason  to  object  against  the  Scripture  account,  that 
mankind  is  in  a  state  of  degradation  ;  against  this  being  the 
fact :  how  difficult  soever  he  may  think  it  to  account  for, 
or  even  to  form  a  distinct  conception  of,  the  occasions  and  cir- 
cumstances of  it.  But  that  the  crime  of  our  first  parents  was 
the  occasion  of  our  being  placed  in  a  more  disadvantageous 
condition,  is  a  thing  throughout,  and  particularly  analogous 
to  what  we  see,  in  the  daily  course  of  natural  Providence  ;  as 
the  recovery  of  the  world,  by  the  interposition  of  Christ,  has 
been  shown  to  be  so  in  general. 

VI.  The  particular  manner  in  which  Christ  interposed  in  the 
redemption  of  the  world,  or  his  office  as  Mediator,  in  the 
largest  sense,  between  God  and  man,  is  thus  represented  to 
us  in  the  Scripture :  '  He  is  the  light  of  the  world  ;'*  the  re- 
vealer  of  the  will  of  God  in  the  most  eminent  sense  :  He  is  a 
propitiatory  sacrifice  ;|  '  the  Lamb  of  God  ;'J  and  as  he  vo- 
luntarily offered  himself  up,  he  is  styled  our  High-Priest. § 
And,  which  seems  of  peculiar  weight,  he  is  described  before. 
hand  in  the  Old  Testament,  under  the  same  characters  of  a 
priest,  and  expiatory  victim.  ||  And  whereas  it  is  objected, 

*  John  i.  and  viii.  12. 

tRom.  iii.  25,  and  v.  11.  1  Cor.  v.  7.  Eph.  v.  2.  Uohn  ii.  2 
Matt.  xxvi.  28. 

I  John  i.  29,  36,  and  throughout  the  book  of  Revelation. 
§  Throughout  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
I  Isa  liii.     Dan.  ix.  24.     Psalm  ex.  4. 
10* 


188  THE   APPOINTMENT   OF  [PART  H. 

that  all  this  is  merely  by  way  of  allusion  to  the  sacrifices  of 
the  Mosaic  law,  the  apostle,  on  the  contrary,  affirms,  that  the 
'  law  was  a  shadow  of  good  things  to  come,  and  not  the  very 
image  of  the  things;'*  and  that  the  piiests  that  offer  gifts 
according  to  the  law — serve  unto  the  example  and  shadow 
of  heavenly  things,  as  Moses  was  admonished  of  God.  when 
he  was  about  to  make  the  tabernacle.  '  For  see,'  saitli  he. 
1  that  f  hou  make  all  things  according  to  the  pattern  showed 
to  thee  in  the  mount :'"("  t.  e.  the  Levitical  priesthood  was  a 
shadow  of  the  priesthood  of  Christ,  in  like  manner  as  the  ta- 
bernacle made  by  Moses  was  according  to  that  showed  him 
in  the  Mount.  The  priesthood  of  Christ  and  the  tabernacle 
in  the  Mount,  were  the  originals :  of  the  former  of  which,  the 
Levitical  priesthood  was  a  type  ;  and  of  the  latter,  the  taber- 
nacle made  by  Moses  was  a  copy.  The  doctrine  of  this 
epistle,  then,  plainly  is,  that  the  legal  sacrifices  were  allusions 
to  the  great  and  final  atonement  to  be  made  by  the  blood  of 
Christ ;  and  not  that  this  was  an  allusion  to  those.  Nor  can 
any  thing  be  more  express  and  determinate,  than  the  follow- 
ing passage :  '  It  is  not  possible  that  the  blood  of  bulls  and  of 
goats  should  take  away  sin.  Wherefore,  when  he  cometh 
into  the  world,  he  saith,  Sacrifice  and  offering,'  i.  e.  of  bulls 
and  of  goats,  '  thou  wouldst  not,  but  a  body  hast  thou  pre- 
pared me — Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O  God. — By  which 
will  we  are  sanctified,  through  the  offering  of  the  body  of 
Jesus  Christ  once  for  all.'  J  And  to  add  one  passage  more 
of  the  like  kind  :  '  Christ  was  once  offered  to  bear  the  sins  of 
many ;  and  unto  them  that  look  for  him  shall  he  appear  the 
second  time,  without  sin ;'  i.  e.  without  bearing  sin,  as  he  did 
at  his  first  coming,  by  being  an  offering  for  it;  without 
having  our  iniquities  again  laid  upon  him,  without  being  any 
more  a  sin-offering ; — '  Unto  them  that  look  for  him  shall  he 
appear  the  second  time,  without  sin,  unto  salvation.'§  Nor 
do  the  inspired  writers  at  all  confine  themselves  to  this  man 
ner  of  speaking  concerning  the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  but  de- 
clare an  efficacy  in  what  he  did  and  suffered  for  us,  additional 
to,  and  beyond  mere  instruction,  example,  and  government, 
in  a  great  variety  of  expression :  '  That  Jesus  should  die  foi 
that  nation,'  the  Jews  ;  '  and  not  for  that  nation  only,  but  that 
also,'  plainly  by  the  efficacy  of  his  death,  '  he  should  gather 
together  in  one  the  children  of  God  that  were  scattered 

*Heb.  T.  1.  t  Heb.  viii.  4,  5.         T  Heb.  x.  4,  5,  7,  £    10. 

*  Heb.  ir.  28. 


4HAP.  V.j  A    MEDIATOR    AND    REDEEMER.  183 

abroad  :'*  that  '  he  suffered  for  sins,  the  just  for  the  unjust  :'f 
that  'he  gave  his  life,  himself,  a  ransom  :'J  that  'we  are 
bought,  bought  with  a  pdce:'§  that  'he  redeemed  us  with 
his  blood ;  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being 
made  a  curse  for  us  :'||  that  he  is  our  '  advocate,  intercessor, 
and  propitiation :' IT  that  'he  was  made  perfect  (or  consum- 
mate) through  sufferings  ;  and  being  thus  made  perfect,  ho 
became  the  author  of  salvation  :'**  that  '  God  was  in  Christ, 
reconciling  the  world  to  himself,  by  the  death  of  his  Son  by 
the  cross ;  not  imputing  their  trespasses  unto  them :' j"j"  and, 
lastly,  that  '  through  death  he  destroyed  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death.' JJ  Christ,  then,  having  thus  'humbled 
himself,  and  become  obedient  to  death,  even  the  death  of  the 
cross,  God  also  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a 
name  which  is  above  every  name  ;  hath  given  all  things  into 
his  hands ;  hath  committed  all  judgment  unto  him  ;  that  all 
men  should  honor  the  Son,  even  as  they  honor  the  Father.'§§ 
For,  '  worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to  receive  power, 
and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory, 
and  blessing !  And  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven,  and 
on  the  earth,  heard  I,  saying,  Blessing,  and  honor,  and  glory, 
and  power,  be  unto  him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and 
unto  the  Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever  !'|||| 

These  passages  of  Scripture  seem  to  comprehend  and  ex 
press  the  chief  parts  of  Christ's  office,  as  mediator  between 
God  and  man  ;  so  far,  I  mean,  as  the  nature  of  this  his  office 
is  revealed;  and  it  is  usually  treated  of  by  divines  under 
three  heads.  • 

First,  He  was,  by  the  way  of  eminence,  the  Prophet :  '  that 
Prophet  that  should  come  into  the  world,'HT  to  declare  the  di- 
vine will.  He  published  anew  the  law  of  nature,  which  men 
had  corrupted ;  and  the  very  knowledge  of  which,  to  some 
degree,  was  lost  among  them.  He  taught  mankind,  taught 
us  authoritatively,  to  '  live  soberly,  righteously  and  godly  in 

+  Jo.m  xi.  51 ,52.        T  1  Pet  iii.  18. 
1  Matt.  xx.  23.     Mark  x.  45.     1  Tim.  ii.  6. 
j  2  Pet.  ii.  1.     Rev.  xiv.  4.     1  Cor.  vi.  20. 
D  1  Pet.  i.  19.     Rev.  v.  9.     Gal.  iii.  13. 
IT  Heb.  vii.  25.     1  John  ii.  1,  2. 
**Heb.ii.  10,  and  v.  9. 
tt  2  Cor.  v.  19.    Rom.  v.  10.    Eph.  ii.  16. 

It  Heb.  ii.  14.  See  also  a  remarkable  passage  in  the  book  of  Job, 
txxiii.  24. 

§§Phil.  ii.  8,  9.    John  iii.  35,  and  v.  22,  23. 
H  ||  Rev.  r.  12,  13.  Tf  John  vi.  14. 


100  THE    APPOINTMENT    OK  [PART  U 

this  present  world,'  in  expectation  of  the  future  judgment  of 
God.  He  confirmed  the  truth  of  this  moral  s}rstem  of  nature, 
and  gave  us  additional  evidence  of  it ;  the  evidence  of  testi- 
mony.* He  distinctly  revealed  the  manner  in  which  God 
would  be  worshipped,  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  and  the  re- 
wards and  punishments  of  a  future  life.  Thus  he  was  a  pro- 
phet in  a  sense  in  which  no  other  ever  was.  To  which  is  to 
be  added,  that  he  set  us  a  perfect  '  example,  that  we  should 
follow  his  steps.' 

.  Secondly,  He  has  a  '  kingdom,  which  is  not  of  this  world.' 
He  founded  a  church,  to  be  to  mankind  a  standing  memorial 
of  religion,  and  invitation  to  it ;  which  he  promised  to  be  with 
always,  even  to  the  end.  He  exercises.,,  an  invisible  govern- 
ment over  it  himself,  and  by  his  Spirit ;  over  that  part  of  it 
\\hich  is  militant  here  on  earth,  a  government  of  discipline, 
'  for  the  perfecting  of  the  saints,  for  the  edifying  his  body  ;  till 
we  all  come  in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  Son  of  God,  unto  a  perfect  man,  unto  the  measure  of  the 
stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ.' j  Of  this  church,  all  persons 
scattered  over  the  world,  who  live  in  obedience  to  his  laws, 
are  members.  For  these  he  is  '  gone  to  prepare  a  place,  and 
will  come  again  to  receive  them  unto  himself,  that  where  he 
is,  there  they  may  be  also ;  and  reign  with  him  for  ever  and 
ever  :'J  p.nd  likewise  '  to  take  vengeance  on  them  that  know 
not  God,  and  obey  not  his  gospel.' § 

Against  these  parts  of  Christ's  office,  I  find  no  objections 
but  what  are  fully  obviated  in  the  beginning  of  this  Chapter. 
Lastly,  Christ  offered  himself  a  propitiatory  sacrifice,  and 
made  atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  world :  which  is  mentioned 
last,  in  regard  to  what  is  objected  against  it.  Sacrifices  of  ex- 
piation were  commanded  the  Jews,  and  obtained  amongst  most 
other  nations,  from  tradition,  whose  original  probably  was  reve- 
lation. And  they  were  continually  repeated,  both  occasion- 
ally and  at  the  returns  of  stated  times  ;  and  made  up  grei  t 
part  of  the  external  religion  of  mankind.  '  But  now  once  in 
the  end  of  the  world  Christ  appeared,  to  put  away  sin  ty  the 
sacrifice  of  himself.'  ||  And  this  sacrifice  was  in  the  highest 
degreef  and  with  the  most  extensive  influence,  of  that  efficacy 
for  obtaining  pardon  of  sin,  which  the  heathens  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  thought  their  sacrifices  to  have  been,  and  \vhirb 

*  Page  163,  &c.  t  Eph.  iv.  12,  13. 

t  John  xiv.  2,  3.    Rev.  iii.  21,  and  xi.  15. 

\  2  Thess.  i.  8.  ||  Heb.  k.  26. 


CHAP.  V.  A    MEDIATOR    AND    REDEEMER.  191 

the  Jewish  sacrifices  really  were  in  some  degree,  and  with 
regard  to  some  persons. 

How,  and  in  what  particular  way,  it  had  this  efficacy,  there* 
are  not  wanting  persons  who  have  endeavoured  lo  expiiiin  ; 
but  I  do  not  find  that  the  Scripture  has  explained  it.  We 
seem  to  be  very  much  in  the  dark  concerning  the  manner  in 
which  the  ancients  understood  atonement  to  be  made,  i.  c.  par- 
dcn  to  be  obtained,  by  sacrifices.  And  if  the  Scripture  has, 
as  surely  ii  has,  left  this  matter  of  the  satisfaction  of  Christ 
mysterious,  left  somewhat  in  it  unrevealed,  all  conjectures 
about  it  must  be,  if  not  evidently  absurd,  yet  at  least  uncer- 
tain. Nor  has  any  one  reason  to  complain  for  want  of  far- 
ther information,  unless  he  can  show  his  claim  to  it. 

Some  have  endeavoured  to  explain  the  efficacy  of  what 
Christ  has  done  and  suffered  for  us,  beyond  what  the  Scrip 
ture  has  authorized ;  others,  probably  because  they  could  not 
explain  it,  have  been  for  taking  it  away,  and  confining  his  office 
as  Redeemer  of  the  world,  to  his  instruction,  example,  and  go 
vernment  of  the  church  ;  whereas  the  doctrine  of  the  gospel 
appears  to  be,  not  only  that  he  taught  the  efficacy  of  repen- 
tance, but  rendered  it  of  the  efficacy  which  it  is,  by  what  he 
did  and  suffered  for  us :  that  he  obtained  for  us  the  benefit  o\ 
having  our  repentance  accepted  unto  eternal  life  :  not  only  that 
he  revealed  to  sinners,  that  they  were  in  a  capacity  of  salva- 
tion, and  how  they  might  obtain  it ;  but,  moreover,  that  he  put 
them  into  this  capacity  of  salvation,  by  what  he  did  and  suf- 
fered for  them  ;  put  us  into  a  capacity  of  escaping  future  pun- 
ishment, and  obtaining  future  happiness.  And  it  is  our  wis- 
dom thankfully  to  accept  the  benefit,  by  performing  the  con- 
ditions upon  which  it  is  offered,  on  our  part,  without  disputing 
how  it  was  procured  on  his.  For, 

VII.  Since  we  neither  know  by  what  means  punishment 
h  a  future  state  would  have  followed  wickedness  in  this  ;  not' 
in  what  manner  it  would  have  been  inflicted,  had  it  not  been 
prevented  ;  nor  all  the  reasons  whj  its  infliction  would  have 
been  needful :  nor  the  particular  nature  of  that  state  of  hap- 
piness which  Christ  has  gone  to  prepare  for  his  disciples ; 
and  since  we  are  ignorant  how  far  any  thing  which  we  could 
;lo,  would,  alone  and  of  itself,  have  been  effectual  to  prevent 
that  punishment  to  which  we  are  obnoxious,  and  recover  that 
happiness  which  we  had  forfeited  ;  it  is  most  evident  we  ore 
not  judges,  antecedently  to  revelation,  whether  a  media  I  oi 
was  or  was  not  necessary  to  obtain  those  ends  ;  to  prevent 
'.hat  futuie  punishment,  and  bring  mankind  to  the  final  hap 


192  THE   APPOINTMENT   OP  [PART  II. 

pniess  of  theii  nature.  And  for  the  very  same  reasons,  upon 
supposition  of  the  necessity  of  a  mediator,  we  are  no  more 
judges,  antecedently  to  revelation,  of  the  whole  nature  of  his 
office,  or  the  several  parts  of  which  it  consists  ;  of  what  was 
fit  and  requisite  to  be  assigned  him,  in  order  to  accomplish  the 
ends  of  divine  Providence  in  the  appointment.  And  from 
h^nce  it  follows,  thaf  to  object  against  the  expediency  or  use- 
fulness of  particular  things  revealed  to  have  been  done  or 
suffered  by  him,  because  we  do  not  see  how  they  were 
conducive  to  those  ends,  is  highly  absurd.  Yet  nothing  is 
more  common  to  be  met  with,  than  this  absurdity.  But  if  it 
be  acknowledged  beforehand,  that  we  are  not  judges  in  the 
case,  it  is  evident  that  no  objection  can,  with  any  shadow  of 
reason,  be  urged  against  any  particular  part  of  Christ's  medi- 
atorial office  revealed  in  Scripture,  till  it  can  be  shown  posi 
lively,  not  to  be  requisite,  or  conducive,  to  the  ends  proposed 
to  be  accomplished ;  or  that  it  is  in  itself  unreasonable. 

And  there  is  one  objection  made  against  the  satisfaction  of 
Christ,  which  looks  to  be  of  this  positive  kind ;  that  the  doc- 
trine of  his  being  appointed  to  suffer  for  the  sins  of  the  world, 
i epresents  God  as  being  indifferent  whether  he  punished  the 
innocent  or  the  guilty.  Now,  from  the  foregoing  observa 
tions,  we  may  see  the  extreme  slightness  of  all  such  objec 
tions  ;  and,  (though  it  is  most  certain  all  who  make  them  do 
not  see  the  consequence,)  that  they  conclude  altogether  as 
much  against  God's  whole  original  constitution  of  nature, 
and  the  whole  daily  course  of  divine  Providence,  in  the  go- 
vernment of  the  world,  t.  e.  against  the  whole  scheme  of 
theism  and  the  whole  notion  of  religion,  as  against  Christianity. 
For  the  world  is  a  constitution,  or  system,  whose  parts  have 
a  mutual  reference  to  each  other;  and  there  is  a  scheme  of 
tilings  gradually  carrying  on,  called  the  course  of  nature,  to 
the  carrying  on  of  which  God  has  appointed  us,  in  various 
ways,  to  contribute.  And  when,  in  the  daily  course  of 
natural  providence,  it  is  appointed  that  innocent  people  should 
suffer  for  the  faults  of  the  guilty,  this  is  liable  to  the  very 
same  objection  as  the  instance  we  are  now  considering.  The 
infinitely  greater  importance  of  that  appointment  of  Chris- 
tianity which  is  objected  against,  does  not  hinder  but  it  may 
be,  as  it  plainly  is,  an  appointment  of  the  very  same  kind 
with  what  the  world  affords  us  daily  examples  of.  Nay,  if 
there  were  any  force  at  all  in  the  objection,  it  would  be 
stronger,  in  one  respect,  against  natural  providence,  than 
against  Christianity ;  because,  under  the  former,  we  are  in 


CHAP.  V.]  A   MEDIATOR   AND    REDEEMER.  1US 

many  cases  commanded,  and  even  necessitated,  whether  we 
tvill  or  no,  \o  suffer  for  the  faults  of  others  ;  whereas  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  were  voluntary.  The  world's  being 
under  the  righteous  government  of  God,  does  indeed  imply, 
that  finally,  and  upon  the  whole,  every  one  shall  receive  ac- 
cording to  his  personal  deserts  ;  and  the  general  doctrine  of 
the  whole  Scripture  is,  that  this  shall  be  the  completion  of 
the  divine  government.  But,  during  the  progress,  and,  for 
ought  we  know,  even  in  order  to  the  completion  of  this  moral 
scheme,  vicarious  punishments  may  be  fit,  and  absolutely 
necessary.  Men,  by  their  follies,  run  themselves  into  ex- 
treme distress;  into  difficulties  which  would  be  absolutely 
fatal  to  them,  were  it  not  for  the  interposition  and  assistance 
of  others.  God  commands  by  the  law  of  nature,  that  we 
afford  them  this  assistance,  in  many  cases  where  we  cannot 
do  it  without  very  great  pains,  and  labour,  and  sufferings  to 
ourselves.  And  we  see  in  what  variety  of  ways  one  person's 
sufferings  contribute  to  the  relief  of  another ;  and  how,  or  by 
what  particular  means,  this  comes  to  pass,  or  follows,  from 
the  constitution  and  laws  of  nature,  which  come  under  our 
notice ;  and  being  familiarized  to  it,  men  are  not  shocked 
with  it.  So  that  the  reason  of  their  insisting  upon  objections 
of  the  foregoing  kind,  against  the  satisfaction  of  Christ,  is, 
either  that  they  do  not  consider  God's  settled  and  uniform  ap- 
pointment as  his  appointment  at  all,  or  else  they  forget  that 
vicarious  punishment  is  a  providential  appointment  of  every 
day's  experience :  and  then,  from  their  being  unacquainted 
with  the  more  general  laws  of  nature,  or  divine  government 
over  the  world,  and  not  seeing  how  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
could  contribute  to  the  redemption  of  it,  unless  by  arbitrary 
and  tyrannical  will,  they  conclude  his  sufferings  could  not 
contribute  to  it  any  other  way.  And  yet,  what  has  been 
often  alleged  in  justification  of  this  doctrine,  even  from  the 
apparent  natural  tendency  of  this  method  of  our  redemption — 
its  tendency  to  vindicate  the  authority  of  God's  laws,  and 
deter  his  creatures  from  sin:  this  has  never  yet  been  an- 
swered, and  is,  I  think,  plainly  unanswerable  :  though  I  am 
far  from  thinking  it  an  account  of  the  whole  of  the  case.  But 
without  taking  this  into  consideration,  it  abundantly  appears, 
from  the  observations  above  made,  that  this  objection  is,  not 
an  objection  against  Christianity,  but  against  the  whole 
general  constitution  of  nature.  And  if  it  were  to  be  consid- 
ered as  an  objection  against  Christianity,  or  considering  it'as 
«  ;s,  an  objection  against  the  constitution  of  nature,  it  amounts 
9 


194  THE   APPOINTMENT   OF  [PART  II. 

to  no  more  in  conclusion  than  this,  that  a  divine  appointment 
cannot  be  necessary,  or  expedient,  because  the  objector  doea 
not  discern  it  to  be  so  ;  though  he  must  own  that  the  nature 
of  the  case  is  such,  as  renders  him  incapable  of  judging  whe- 
ther it  be  so  or  not ;  or  of  seeing  it  to  be  necessary,  though  it 
were  so. 

It  is  indeed  a  matter  of  great  patience  to  reasonable  men, 
to  find  people  arguing  in  this  manner  ;  objecting  against  the 
credibility  of  such  particular  things  revealed  in  Scripture,  that 
they  do  not  see  the  necessity  or  expediency  of  them.  For, 
though  it  is  highly  right,  and  the  most  pious  exercise  of  our 
understanding,  to  inquire  with  due  reverence  into  the  ends 
dnd  reasons  of  God's  dispensations  ;  yet,  when  those  reasons 
are  concealed,  to  argue  from  our  ignorance,  that  such  dis- 
pensations cannot  be  from  God,  is  infinitely  absurd.  The 
presumption  of  this  kind  of  objections  seems  almost  lost  in 
tiie  folly  of  them.  And  the  folly  of  them  is  yet  greater,  when 
they  are  urged,  as  usually  they  are,  against  things  in  Chris- 
tianity analogous,  or  like  to  those  natural  dispensations  of 
Providence,  which  are  matter  of  experience.  Let  reason  bo 
kept  to ;  and,  if  any  part  of  the  Scripture  account  of  the  re- 
demption of  the  world  by  Christ  can  be  shown  to  be  really  con- 
trary to  it,  let  the  Scripture,  in  the  name  of  God,  be  given  up : 
but  let  not  such  poor  creatures  as  we,  go  onobjecting  against  an 
infinite  scheme,  that  we  do  not  see  the  necessity  or  usefulness 
of  aH  its  parts,  and  call  this  reasoning  ;  and,  which  sLll  far- 
ther heightens  the  absurdity  in  the  present  case,  parts  which 
\v?  are  not  actively  concerned  i  i.  For,  it  may  be  worth  meu 
tioning, 

Lastly,  That  not  only  the  reason  of  the  thing,  but  the  whol 
analogy  of  nature,  should  teach  us,  not  to  expect  to  have  the 
like  information  concerning  the  divine  conduct,  as  concerning 
our  own  duty.  God  instructs  us  by  experience,  (for  it  is 
not  reason,  but  experience,  which  instructs  us,)  what  good 
or  bad  consequences  will  follow  from  our  acting  in  such 
and  such  manners  ;  and  by  this  he  directs  us  how  we  are 
to  behave  ourselves.  But,  though  we  are  sufficiently  in- 
structed fo;  the  common  purposes  of  life,  yet  it  is  but  an 
almost  infinitely  small  part  of  natural  providence  which  we 
are  at  all  let  into.  The  case  is  the  same  with  regard  to 
revelation.  The  doctrine  of  a  mediator  between  God  and 
man,  against  which  it  is  objected,  that  the  expediency  of 
some  things  in  it  is  not  understood,  relates  only  to  what  was 
done  on  God's  part  in  the  appointment,  and  on  the  Mediator's 


.  V.]  A    MEDIATOR    AND    REDEEMER.  795 

in  the  execution  of  it.  For  what  is  required  of  us,  in  con- 
sequence  of  this  gracious  dispensation,  is  another  subject,  in 
which  none  can  complain  for  want  of  information.  The  con- 
stitution of  the  world,  and  God's  natural  government  over  it. 
is  all  mystery,  as  much  as  the  Christian  dispensation.  Yet 
under  the  first,  he  has  given  men  all  things  pertaining  to  life  ; 
aiui  under  the  other,  all  things  pertaining  unto  godliness.  And 
it  may  be  added,  that  there  is  nothing  hard  to  be  accounted 
for  in  an}'  of  the  common  precepts  of  Christianity  ;  though, 
if  there  were,  surely  a  divine  command  is  abundantly  suf- 
ficient to  lay  us  under  the  strongest  obligations  to  obedience. 
But  the  fact  is,  that  the  reasons  of  all  the  Christian  precepts 
are  evident.  Positive  institutions  are  manifestly  necessary  to 
keep  up  arid  propngate  religion  among:  t  mankind.  And  our 
duty  to  Christ,  the  internal  and  external  worship  of  him  ;  this 
part  of  the  religion  of  the  gospel  manifestly  arises  out  of  what 
he  tas  done  and  suffered,  his  authority  and  dominion,  un»] 
me  relation  which  he  is  revealed  to  stand  in  to  ua. 


19G 


REVELATION   NOT   UNIVERSAL  :  [PART  IL 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Of  the  want  of  Universality  in  Revelation ;  and  oj  the  tup* 
posed  Deficiency  in  the  Proof  of  it. 

IT  has  been  thought  by  some  persons,  that  if  the  evidence 
of  revelation  appears  doubtful,  this  itself  turns  into  a  positive 
argument  against  it ;  because  it  cannot  be  supposed,  that,  if 
it  were  true,  it  would  be  left  to  subsist  upon  doubtful  evidence 
And  the  objection  against  revelation,  from  its  not  being  uni- 
versal, is  often  insisted  upon  as  of  great  weight. 

Now,  the  weakness  of  these  opinions  may  be  shown,  by 
observing  the  suppositions  on  which  they  are  founded,  which 
are  really  such  as  these ; — that  it  cannot  be  thought  God 
would  have  bestowed  any  favour  at  all  upon  us,  unless  in  the 
degree  which,  we  think,  he  might,  and  which,  we  imagine, 
would  be  most  to  our  particular  advantage  ;  and  also,  that  it 
cannot  be  thought  he  would  bestow  a  favour  upon  any,  unless 
he  bestowed  the  same  upon  all :  suppositions  which  we  find 
contradicted,  not  by  a  few  instances  in  God's  natural  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  but  by  the  general  analogy  of  nature 
together. 

Persons  who  speak  of  the  evidence  of  religion  as  doubtful, 
and  of  this  supposed  doubtfulness  as  a  positive  argument 
against  it,  should  be  put  upon  considering,  what  that  evidence 
indeed  is,  which  they  act  upon  with  regard  to  their  tempo- 
ral interests.  For,  it  is  not  only  extremely  difficult,  but,  in 
many  cases,  absolutely  impossible,  to  balance  pleasure  and 
pain,  satisfaction  and  uneasiness,  so  as  to  be  able  to  say,  on 
which  side  the  overplus  is.  There  are  the  like  difficulties  and 
impossibilities,  in  making  the  due  allowances  for  a  change  of 
temper  and  taste,  for  satiety,  disgusts,  ill  health  ;  any  of  which 
render  men  incapable  of  enjoying,  after  they  have  obtained, 
what  they  most  eagerly  desired.  Numberless,  too,  are  the 
accidents,  besides  that  one  of  untimely  death,  which  i.iay 
even  probably  disappoint  the  best  concertec'  schemes;  and 


CHAP.  VI.J    SUPPOSEP    DEFICIENCY    IX    ITS    PROOF.  197 

strong  objections  are  often  seen  to  lie  against  them,  not  to  be 
removed  or  answered,  but  which  seem  overbalanced  by  rea- 
sons on  the  other  side  ;  so  as  that  the  certain  difficulties  and 
dangers  of  the  pursuit  are,  by  every  one,  thought  justly  dis- 
regarded, upon  account  of  there  appearing  greater  advantages 
in  case  of  success,  though  there  be  but  little  probability  of  it. 
Lastly,  Every  one  observes  our  liableness,  if  we  be  not  upon 
our  guard,  to  be  deceived  by  the  falsehood  of  men,  and  the  false 
appearances  of  things  ;  and  this  danger  must  be  greatly  in- 
creased, if  there  be  a  strong  bias  within,  suppose  from  indulged 
passion,  to  favour  the  deceit.  Hence  arises  that  great  uncer- 
tainty and  doubtfulness  of  proof,  wherein  our  temporal  inter- 
est really  consists ;  what  are  the  most  probable  means  of 
attaining  it ;  and  whether  those  means  will  eventually  be 
successful.  And  numberless  instances  there  are,  in  the  daily 
course  of  life,  in  which  all  men  think  it  reasonable  to  engage 
in  pursuits,  though  the  probability  is  greatly  against  succeed- 
ing ;  and  to  make  such  provision  for  themselves,  as  it  is  sup- 
posable  they  may  have  occasion  for,  though  the  plain  acknow- 
ledged probability  is,  that  they  never  shall.  Then  those  who 
think  the  objection  against  revelation,  from  its  light  not  being 
universal,  to  be  of  weight,  should  observe,  that  the  Author  of 
nature,  in  numberless  instances,  bestows  that  upon  some, 
which  he  does  not  upon  others,  who  seem  equally  to  stand  in 
need  of  it.  Indeed,  he  appears  to  bestow  all  his  gifts  with 
the  most  promiscuous  variety,  among  creatures  of  the  same 
species  :  health  and  strength,  capacities  of  prudence  and  of 
knowledge,  means  of  improvement,  riches,  and  all  external  ad- 
vantages. And  as  there  are  not  any  two  men  found  of  exactly 
like  shape  and  features,  so,  it  is  probable,  there  are  not  any  two 
of  an  exactly  like  constitution,  temper,  and  situation,  with  re- 
gard to  the  goods  and  evils  of  life.  Yet,  notwithstanding 
these  uncertainties  and  varieties,  God  does  exercise  a  natural 
government  over  the  world  ;  and  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
prudent  and  imprudent  institution  of  life,  with  regard  tc  our 
health  and  our  affairs,  under  that  his  natural  government. 

As  neither  the  Jewish  nor  Christian  revelation  have  been 
universal,  and  as  they  have  been  afforded  to  a  greater  or  less 
part  of  the  world,  at  different  times,  so,  likewise,  at  different 
times,  both  revelations  have  had  different  degrees  of  evidence. 
The  Jews  who  lived  during  the  succession  of  prophets,  that 
is,  from  Moses  till  after  the  Captivity,  hud  higher  evidence  of 
the  truth  of  their  religion,  than  those  had  who  lived  in  the 
interval  between  the  last-mentioned  period  and  the  coming  of 


198  REVELATION    NOT    UNIVERSAL  :  [PAHT  II. 

Christ.  And  the  first  Christinns  had  higher  evidence  of  the 
mi:  steles  wrought  in  attestation  of  Christianity  than  what  we 
have  now.  They  had  also  a  strong  presumptive  proof  of  the 
truth  of  it,  perhaps  of  much  greater  force,  in  way  of  argu- 
ment, than  many  may  think,  of  which  we  have  very  little  re- 
maining: I  mean,  the  presumptive  proof  of  its  truth  from  the 
influence  which  it  had  upon  the  lives  of  the  generality  of  its 
professors.  And  we,  or  future  ages,  may  possibly  have  a  prooi 
of  it.  which  they  could  not  have,  from  the  conformity  between 
the  prophetic  history,  and  the  state  of  the  world,  ami  of  Chris- 
tianity. And  farther  :  If  we  were  to  suppose  the  evidence, 
which  some  have  of  religion,  to  amount  to  little  more  than 
seeing  that  it  may  be  true,  but  that  they  remain  in  great  doubts 
and  uncertainties  about  both  its  evidence  and  its  nature,  and 
great  perplexities  concerning  the  rule  of  life;  others  to  have 
a  full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  religion,  with  a  distinct  know 
ledge  of  their  duty  ;  and  ethers  severally  to  have  all  the  inter- 
mediate degrees  of  religious  light  and  evidence,  which  lie  be- 
tween these  two. — If  we  put  the  case,  that  for  the  present  it 
was  inten  led  revelation  should  be  no  more  than  a  small  light, 
in  the  midst  of  a  world  greatly  overspread,  notwithstanding  it, 
with  ignorance  and  darkness;  that  certain  glimmerings  of 
this  light  should  extend,  and  be  directed,  to  remote  distances, 
in  such  a  manner  as  that  those  who  really  partook  of  it 
should  not  discern  from  whence  it  originally  came  ;  that 
some,  in  a  nearer  situation  to  it,  should  have  its  light  ob- 
scured, and,  in  different  ways  and  degrees,  intercepted  ;  and 
that  others  should  be  placed  within  its  clearer  influence,  and 
be  much  more  enlivened,  cheered,  and  directed  by  it ;  but  yet, 
that  even  to  these  it  should  be  no  more  than  '  a  light  shining 
in  a  dark  place:'  all  this  would  be  perfectly  uniform  and  of  a 
piece  with  the  conduct  of  Providence,  in  the  distribution  of  its 
other  blessings.  If  the  fact  of  the  case  really  were,  that 
some  have  received  no  light  at  all  from  the  Scripture  ;  as 
many  ages  ar.d  countries  in  the  heathen  world  :  that  others, 
though  they  have,  by  means  of  it,  had  essential  or  natural 
religion  enforced  upon  their  consciences,  yet  have  never  had 
the  genuine  Scripture  revelation,  with  its  real  evidence,  pro- 
posed to  their  consideration ;  and  the  ancient  Persians  and 
modern  Mahometans  may  possibly  be  instances  of  people  in  a 
situation  somewhat  like  to  this:  that  others,  though  they 
have  had  the  Scripture  laid  before  them  as  of  divine  revela- 
tion, yet  have  had  it  with  the  system  and  evidence  of  Chris- 
tianity so  interpolated,  *he  system  so  corrupted,  the  evidence 


CHAP.  VI.]  SUPPPOSED    DEFICIENCY    IN    1T9    PROOF.  199 

BO  blended  with  false  miracles,  as  to  leave  the  mind  in  ihe 
utmost  doubtfulness  and  uncertainty  about  the  whole  ;  which 
may  be  the  state  of  some  thoughtful  men  in  most  of  those  na- 
tions who  call  themselves  Christian:  and,  lastly,  that  others 
have  had  Christianity  offered  to  them  in  its  genuine  simplicity, 
and  with  its  proper  evidence,  as  persons  in  countries  auJ 
churches  of  civil  and  of  Christian  liberty ;  but,  however,  t'ua'. 
even  these  persons  are  left  in  great  ignorance  in  many 
respects,  and  have  by  no  means  light  afforded  them  enough 
to  satisfy  their  curiosity,  but  only  to  regulate  their  life,  to 
teach  them  their  duty,  and  encourage  them  in  the  care  ml 
discharge  of  it :  I  say,  if  we  were  to  suppose  this  somewhat 
of  a  general  true  account  of  the  degrees  of  moral  and  reli- 
gious light  and  evidence,  which  were  intended  to  be  afforded 
mankind,  and  of  what  has  actually  been  and  is  their  situa- 
tion, in  their  moral  and  religious  capacity,  there  would  be 
nothing  in  all  this  ignorance,  doubtfulness,  and  uncertainty, 
in  all  these  varieties  and  supposed  disadvantages  of  some  in 
comparison  of  others,  respecting  religion,  but  may  be  paralleled 
by  manifest  analogies  in  the  natural  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence at  present,  and  considering  ourselves  merely  in  our 
temporal  capacity. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  shocking  in  all  this,  or  which  would 
seem  to  bear  hard  upon  the  moral  administration  in  nature,  if 
we  would  really  keep  in  mind,  that  every  one  should  be 
dealt  equitably  with ;  instead  of  forgetting  this,  or  explaining 
it  away,  after  it  is  acknowledged  in  words.  All  shadow  of 
injustice,  and  indeed  all  harsh  appearances,  in  this  various 
economy  of  Providence,  would  be  lost,  if  we  would  keep  in 
mind,  that  every  merciful  allowance  should  be  made,  and  no 
more  be  required  of  any  one,  than  what  might  havo  been 
equitably  expected  of  him,  from  the  circumstances  in  \vhich 
ne  was  placed  ;  and  not  what  might  have  been  expected,  had 
he  been  placed  in  other  circumstances :  i.  e.  in  Scripture  lan- 
guage, that  every  man  shall  be  '  accepted  according  to  what 
he  hc.d,  not  according  to  what  he  had  not.'*  This,  however, 
d'jth  not  by  any  means  imply,  that  all  persons'  condition  here 
is  squally  advantageous  with  respect  to  futurity.  And 
Providence's  designing  to  place  some  in  greater  darkness 
with  respect  to  religious  knowledge,  is  no  more  a  reason  why 
they  should  not  e.'.ideavour  to  got  out  of  that  darkness,  and 
ethers  to  bring  them  out  of  it,  than  why  ignorant  and  slow 

*2Cor.viii.  12. 


200  REVELATION    NOT    UNIVERSAL :  [PART  II 

people,  in  matters  of  other  knowledge,  should  not  endeavour 
to  learn,  or  should  not  be  instructed. 

It  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose,  that  the  seme  "wise  and 
good  principle,  whatever  it  was,  which  disposed  the  Author  oi 
nature  to  make  different  kinds  and  orders  of  creatures,  dis- 
posed him  also  to  place  creatures  of  like  kinds  in.  different 
situations ;  and  that  the  same  principle  which  disposed  him  to 
make  creatures  of  different  moral  capacities,  disposed  him  also 
to  place  creatures  of  like  moral  capacities  in  different  reli- 
gious situations  ;  and  even  the  same  creatures,  in  different  pe- 
riods of  their  being.  And  the  account  or  reason  of  this,  is  also 
most  probably  the  account  why  the  constitution  of  things  is 
such,  as  that  creatures  of  moral  natures  or  capacities,  for  a 
considerable  part  of  that  duration  in  which  they  are  living 
agents,  are  not  at  all  subjects  of  morality  and  religion  ;  but 
grow  up  to  be  so,  and  grow  up  to  be  so  more  and  more,  gra- 
dually, from  chiMhood  to  mature  age. 

What,  in  particular,  is  the  account  or  reason  of  these 
things,  we  must  be  greatly  in  the  dark,  were  it  only  that  we 
know  so  very  little  even  of  our  own  case.  Our  present  state 
may  possibly  be  the  consequence  of  somewhat  past,  which 
we  are  wholly  ignorant  of;  as  it  has  a  reference  to  somewhat 
to  come,  of  which  we  know  scarce  any  more  than  is  neces- 
sary for  practice.  A  system  or  constitution,  in  its  notion, 
implies  variety ;  and  so  complicated  a  one  as  this  world,  very 
great  variety.  So  that  were  revelation  universal,  yet  from 
men's  different  capacities  of  understanding,  from  the  different 
lengths  of  their  lives,  their  different  educations  and  other  ex 
ternal  circumstances,  and  from  their  difference  of  temper  and 
bodily  constitution,  their  religious  situations  would  be  widely 
different,  and  the  disadvantage  of  some  in  comparison  oi 
others,  perhaps,  altogether  as  much  as  at  present.  And  the 
true  account,  whatever  it  be,  why  mankind,  or  such  a  part  of 
mankind,  are  placed  in  this  condition  of  ignorance,  must  be 
supposed  also  the  true  account  of  our  farther  ignorance,  in 
not  knowing  the  reasons  why,  or  whence  it  is,  that  they  are 
placed  in  this  condition.  But  the  following  practical  reflec- 
tions may  deserve  the  serious  consideration  of  those  persons, 
who  think  the  circumstances  of  mankind,  or  their  own,  in  the 
forementioned  respects,  a  ground  of  complaint. 

First,  The  evidence  of  religion  not  appearing  obvious, 
may  constitute  one  particular  part  of  some  men's  trial  in  the 
religious  sense  ;  as  it  gives  scope  for  a  virtuous  exercise,  oi 
vicious  neglect,  of  ih^ir  understanding,  in  examining:  or  no> 


CHAP.  VI.]  SUPPOSED  DEFICIENCY  IN  ITS  PROOF.       201 

examining  into  that  evidence.  There  seems  no  possible  rea- 
son to  be  given,  why  we  may  not  be  in  a  state  of  moral  pro- 
bation, with  regard  to  the  exercise  of  our  understanding  upon 
the  subject  of  religion,  as  we  are  with  regard  to  our  behaviour 
in  common  affairs.  The  former  is  as  much  a  thing  within 
our  power  and  choice  as  the  latter.  And  1  suppose  it  is  to 
be  laid  down  for  certain,  that  the  same  character,  the  same 
inward  principle,  which,  after  a  man  is  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  religion,  renders  him  obedient  to  the  precepts  of  it, 
would,  were  he  not  thus  convinced,  set  him  about  an  exam- 
ination of  it,  upon  its  system  and  evidence  being  offered  to  his 
thoughts ;  arid  that  in  the  latter  state,  his  examination  would 
be  with  an  impartiality,  seriousness,  and  solicitude,  proportion- 
able to  what  his  obedience  is  in  the  former.  And  as  inatten- 
tion, negligence,  want  of  all  serious  concern,  about  a  matter 
of  such  a  nature  and  such  importance,  when  offered  to  men's 
consideration,  is,  before  a  distinct  conviction  of  its  truth,  as 
real  immoral  depravity  and  dissoluteness,  as  neglect  of  reli- 
gious practice  after  such  conviction ;  so,  active  solicitude 
about  it,  and  fair  impartial  consideration  of  its  evidence  before 
such  conviction,  is  as  really  an  exercise  of  a  morally  right 
temper,  as  is  religious  practice  after.  Thus,  that  religion  is 
not  intuitively  true,  but  a  matter  of  deduction  and  inference  ; 
that  a  conviction  of  its  truth  is  not  forced  upon  every  one, 
but  left  to  be,  by  some,  collected  with  heedful  attention  to 
premises  ;  this  as  much  constitutes  religious  probation,  as 
much  affords  sphere,  scope,  opportunity,  for  right  and  wrong 
behaviour,  as  any  thing  whatever-  does.  And  their  manner 
of  treating  this  subject,  when  laid  before  them,  shows  what 
is  in  their  heart,  and  is  an  exertion  of  it. 

Secondly,  It  appears  to  be  a  thing  as  evident,  though  it  is 
not  so  much  attended  to,  that  if,  upon  consideration  of  religion, 
the  evidence  of  it  should  seem  to  any  persons  doubiful  in 
the  highest  supposable  degree,  even  this  doubtful  evidence 
will,  however,  put  them  into  a  general  state  of  probation,  in 
the  moral  and  religious  sense.  For,  suppose  a  man  to  be  really 
in  doubt,  whether  such  a  person  had  not  done  him  the  great- 
est favor  ;  or,  whether  his  whole  temporal  interest  did  not  de- 
pend upon  that  person  ;  no  one  who  had  any  sense  of  grati- 
tude and  of  prudence,  could  possibly  consider  himself  in  the 
same  situation,  with  regard  to  such  person,  as  if  he  had  no 
giich  doubt.  In  truth,  it  is  as  just  to  say,  that  certainty  and 
doubt  are  the  same,  as  to  say,  the  situations  now  mentioned 
would  leave  a  man  as  entirely  at  liberty,  in  point  of  gratitude 


202  REVELATION    NOT    UNIVERSAL  I  [PART  II. 

or  prudence,  as  he  would  be,  were  he  certain  he  had  received 
no  favor  from  such  person,  or  thai  h«  no  way  depended  upon 
h.in.  And  thus,  though  the  evidence  of  religion  which  is 
afforded  to  some  men,  should  be  little  more  than  that  they  art 
given  to  see  the  system  of  Christianity ,  or  religion  in  general, 
to  be  supposable  and  credible,  this  ought  in  all  reason  tc  beget 
a  serious  practical  apprehension  that  it  may  be  true.  And  even 
this  will  afford  matter  of  exercise,  for  religious  suspense  and 
deliberation,  for  moral  resolution  and  self-government ;  because 
the  apprehension  that  religion  may  be  true,  does  as  really 
lajr  men  under  obligations,  as  a  full  conviction  that  it  is 
true.  It  gives  occasion  and  motives  to  consider  farther  the 
important  subject;  to  preserve  attentively  upon  their  minds 
a  general  implicit  sense  that  they  may  be  under  divine  moral 
government,  an  awful  solicitude  about  religion,  whether  na- 
tural or  revealed.  Such  apprehension  ought  to  turn  men's 
eyes  to  every  degree  of  new  light  which  may  be  had,  from 
whatever  side  it  comes,  and  induce  them  to  refrain,  in  the 
mean  time,  from  all  immoralities,  and  live  in  the  conscientious 
practice  of  every  common  virtue.  Especially  are  they  bound 
to  keep  at  the  greatest  distance  from  all  dissolute  profancness 
-—for  this  the  very  nature  of  the  case  forbids  ;  and  to  treat 
v  ith  highest  reverence  a  matter  upon  which  their  own  whole 
interest  and  being,  and  the  fate  of  nature  depends.  This  be 
haviour,  and  an  active  endeavour  to  maintain  within  them 
selves  this  temper,  is  the  business,  the  duty  and  the  wisdom 
of  those  persons,  who  complain  of  the  doubtfulness  of  reli- 
gion ;  is  what  they  are  under  the  most  proper  obligations  to ; 
and  such  behaviour  is  an  exertion  of,  and  has  a  tendency  to 
improve  in  them,  that  character,  which  the  practice  of  all  the 
several  duties  of  religion,  from  a  full  conviction  of  its  truth. 
is  an  exertion  of,  and  has  a.  tendency  to  improve  in  others ; 
others,  I  say,  to  whom  God  has  afforded  such  conviction.  Nay, 
considering  the  infinite  importance  of  religion,  revealed  as 
well  as  natural,  I  think  it  may  be  said  in  general,  that  who- 
ever will  weigh  the  matter  thoroughly,  may  see  there  is  not 
near  so  much  difference  as  is  commonly  imagined,  between 
what  ought  in  reason  to  be  the  rule  of  life,  to  those  persons  who 
are  fully  convinced  of  its  truth,  and  to  those  who  have  only 
a  serious  doubting  apprehension  that  it  may  be  true.  Their 
hopes,  and  fears,  and  obligations,  will^e  in  various  degrees  • 
but  as  the  subject-matter  of  their  hopes  and  fears  is  the  same, 
so  the  subject-matter  of  their  obligations,  what  they  areboun* 
to  do  and  to  refrain  from,  is  not  so  very  unlike. 


f 

CH*P.  VI. j    SUPPOSED    DEFICIENCY    IN    ITS    PROOF.  20$ 

It  is  to  bo  observed  farther,  that,  from  a  character cf  urule/- 
stantlinir,  or  a  situation  of  influence  in  the  woild,  some  per- 
soiit«  have  it  in  their  power  to  do  infinitely  more  harm  or  good, 
by  .setting  an  example  of  profaneness,  and  avowed  disregard 
lo  all  religion,  or,  on  the  contrary,  of  a  serious,  though  .perhaps 
doubting,  apprehension  of  its  truth,  and  of  a,  reverend  regard 
lo  it  under  this  doubtfulness,  than  they  can  do  by  acting  well 
or  ill  in  all  the  common  intercourses  amongst  mankind  ;  ana 
C3nsequently  they  are  most  highly  accountable  for  a  beha- 
viour, which,  they  may  easily  foresee,  is  of  such  importance, 
and  in  which  there  is  most  plainly  a  right  and  a  wrong ;  even 
admitting  the  evidence  of  religion  to  be  as  doubtful  as  is  pre- 
tended. 

The  ground  of  these  observations,  and  that  which  renders 
them  just  and  true,  is,  that  doubting  necessarily  implies  some 
degree  of  evidence  for  that  of  which  we  doubt.  For  no  per- 
son would  be  in  doubt  concerning  the  truth  of  a  number  of 
fticts-so  and  so  circumstaciced,  which  should  accidentally  come 
into  his  thoughts,  and  of  which  he  had  no  evidence  at  ail. 
And  though  in  the  case  of  an  even  chance,  and  where  conse- 
quently we  were  in  doubt,  we  should  in  common  language  say, 
that  we  had  no  evidence  at  all  for  either  side ;  yet  that  situa- 
tion of  things  which  rer.Jers  it.  an  even  chance  and  no  more 
that  such  an  event  will  happen,  renders  this  case  equivalent 
to  all  others,  where  there  is  such  evidence  on  both  skies  of  a 
rjiiestion,*  as  leaves  the  mind  in  doubt  concerning  the  truth. 
Indeed,  in  all  these  cases,  there  is  no  more  evidence  on  the 
one  side  than  on  the  other ;  but  there  is  (what  is  equivalent 
to)  much  more  for  either,  than  for  the  truth  of  a  number  of 
facts,  which  come  into  one's  thoughts  at  random.  And  thus, 
in  nil  luese  cases,  doubt  as  much  presupposes  evidence,  lower 
degrees  of  evidence,  as  belief  presupposes  higher,  and  cer- 
tainty higher  still.  Any  one,  who  will  a  little  attend  to  the  na- 
ture of  evi  lence,  will  easily  cany  this  observation  on,  and  see, 
that  l>etween  no  evidence  at  all,  and  that  degree  of  it  which 
afiords  ground  of  doubt,  there  are  as  many  intermediate  de- 
iTreos,  as  there  arc  between  that  degree  which  is  the  ground 
of  doubt,  and  demonstration.  And,  though  we  have  not  fa- 
culties to  distinguish  these  degrees  of  evidence  with  any  sort 
of  exactness,  yet,  in  proportion  as  they  are  discerned,  they 
ought  to  influence  our  practice.  For  it  is  as  real  an  imperfec- 
tion in  the  imrul  character,  not.  lobe  influenced  in  practice  by  * 

-*  Introduction. 
11 


'2V*  REVELATION    NOT    UNIVERSAL:  [ PART  II 

lower  degree  of  evidence  when  discerned,  as  it.  is  in  the  under- 
standing1,  not  to  discern  it.  And  us,  in  all  subjects  which  men 
consider,  ihey  discern  the  lower  as  well  as  higher  decrees 
of  evidence,  proporiionably  10  their  capacity  of  v;nderstan.ur»ir . 
«?o  in  practical  subjects,  they  are  influenced  in  practice  bv 
the  lower  as  well  as  higher  degrees  of  it,  proporiionably  ic 
their  fairness  and  honesty.  And  as,  in  proportion  to  de- 
fects in  the  understanding,  men  are  unapt  to  see  lower  degrees 
of  evidence,  are  in  danger  of  ovfrlooking  evidence  when  it  ia 
not  glaring,  and  are  easily  iir.|x>sed  uj>on  in  such  cases ;  so 
in  proportion  to  the  corrupnon  of  the  heart,  they  seem  cj.pa- 
ble  of  satisfying  themselves  with  having  no  regard  in  prac- 
tice to  evidence  acknowledged  real,  if  ii  be  not  ovcrbeaiing. 
From  these  things  it  must  follow,  that  doubting  concerning 
religion  implies  such  a  degree  of  evidence  for  ii,  as,  joined  with 
the  consideration  of  its  importance,  unquestionably  laj's  n;cri 
under  the  obligations  before  mcniioned,  to  have  a  dutiful  regard 
to  it  in  all  their  behaviour. 

Thirdly,  The  difficulties  in  which  the  evidence  of  reli- 
gion is  involved,  which  scn.e  complain  of,  is  no  n  ore  a  just 
ground  of  complaint,  than  the  external  circumstances  of  tempt- 
ation, which  others  are  placed  in  ;  or  than  difficulties  in  the 
practice  of  it,  after  a  full  conviction  of  i's  truth.  Temptations 
vender  our  state  a  more  improving  state  of  discipline*  than  ii 
would  be  otherwise  ;  as  they  give  occasion  for  a  more  atten- 
tive exercise  of  the  virtuous  principle,  which  confirms  and 
strengthens  it  mo.e  than  an  easier  or  less  attentive  exercise  of 
it  could.  Now,  speculative  difficulties  are,  in  this  respect,  of 
the  very  same  nature  wi'h  these  external  temptations.  For 
the  evidence  of  religion  not  appearing  obvious,  is,  to  some 
persons,  a  temptation  to  reject  it,  without  any  consideration 
at  n\l :  and  therefore  requires  such  ivn  attentive  exercise  ol 
the  virtuous  principle,  seriously  to  consider  that  evidence,  as 
there  would  be  no  occasion  for,  but  for  such  temptation.  And 
the  supposed  doubtfulness  of  its  evidence,  after  it  has  been  in 
some  sort  considered,  affords  opportunity  to  an  unfair  nurd, 
of  explaining  away,  and  deceitfully  hiding  from  itself,  that 
evidence  which  it  might  see :  and  also  for  men's  encouraging 
themselves  in  vice,  from  hopes  of  impunity,  though  :hfy  dc 
clearly  see  thus  much  at  least,  that  these  hopes  are  uncertain : 
in  like  manner,  as  the  common  temptations  10  inany  instances 
of  folly,  which  end  in  temporal  infamy  and  ruin,  is  the  grouuc 

*  Part  L  chap.  5. 


tHIP.  VI. J  SUPPOSED  DEFICIENCY  IN  ITS  PROOF.       205 

for  hope  of  not  being  detected,  and  of  escaping  with  impunity : 
i.  e.  the  doubtfulness  of  the  truth  beforehand,  that  such  foolish 
behaviour  will  thus  end  in  infamy  and  ruin.  On  the  con- 
trary, supposed  doubtfulness  in  the  evidence  of  religion  calls 
for  a  more  careful  and  attentive  exercise  of  thg  virtuous  prin- 
ciple, in  fairly  yielding  themselves  up  to  the  proper  influence 
of  any  real  evidence,  though  doubtful ;  and  in  practising  con- 
scientiously all  virtue,  though  under  some  uncertainty 
whether  the  government  in  the  universe  may  not  possibly 
be  such,  as  that  vice  ma}'  escape  with  impunity.  And,  in 
general,  temptation,  meaning  by  this  word  ihe  lesser  allure- 
ments to  wrong,  and  difficulties  in  the  discharge  of  our  duty, 
as  well  as  the  greater  ones ;  temptation,  I  say,  as  such,  and 
of  every  kind  and  degree,  as  it  calls  forth  some  virtuous 
efforts,  additional  to  what  would  otherwise  have  been  wanting, 
cannot  but  be  an  additional  discipline  and  improvement  of 
virtue,  as  well  as  probation  of  it,  in  the  other  senses  of  that 
word.  So  that  the  very  same  account  is  to  be  given,  why 
the  evidence  of  religion  should  be  left  in  such  a  manner,  as  to 
require,  in  some,  an  attentive,  solicitous,  perhaps  painful,  ex- 
ercise of  their  understanding  about  it ;  as  why  others  should 
be  placed  in  such  circumstances  as  that  the  practice  of  its 
common  duties,  after  a  full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  it,  should 
require  attention,  solicitude,  and  pains:  or,  why  appearing 
doubtfulness  should  be  permitted  to  afford  matter  of  tempta- 
tion to  some ;  as  why  external  difficulties  and  allurements 
should  be  permitted  to  afford  matter  of  temptation  to  others. 
The  same  account  also  is  to  be  given,  why  some  should  be 
exercised  with  temptations  of  both  these  kinds,  as  why  others 
should,  be'  exercised  with  the  latter  in  such  very  high  de- 
grees, as  some  have  been,  particularly  as  the  primitive 
Christians  were. 

Nor  does  there  appear  any  absurdity  in  supposing,  that  the 
speculative  difficulties  in  which  the  evidence  of  religion  is 
involved,  may  make  even  the  principal  part  of  some  per- 
sons' trial.  For,  as  the  chief  temptations  of  the  generality 
of  the  world,  are,  the  ordinary  motives  to  injustice  or  unre- 
strained pleasure ;  or  to  live  in  the  neglect  of  religion  from 
that  frame  of  mind,  which  renders  many  persons  almost  with- 
out feeling  as  to  any  thing  distant,  or  which  is  not  the  object 
of  their  senses ;  so  there  are  other  persons  without  this  shal- 
lowness  of  temper,  persons  of  a  deeper  sense  ?  s  to  what  is  in- 


206  HEVEI.ATION    NOT    UWIVEnSAL  :  [PART  II 

visible  and  future,  who  not  only  sec,  but  have  a  general  prac- 
tical feeling  that  what  is  to  tome  will  be  present,  and  that 
things  are  not  less  real  for  their  not  being  the  object  of  sense; 
and  who,  from  their  natural  constitution  of  body  and  of  temper. 
an-i  from  their  external  condition,  may  have  small  temptations 
to  behave  ill,  small  difficulty  in  behaving  well,  in  the  common 
course  of  life.  Now,  when  these  latter  persons  have  a  distinct, 
full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  religion,  without  any  possible 
doubts  or  difficulties,  the  practice  of  it  is  to  them  unavoidable, 
unless  they  will  do  a  constant  violence  to  their  own  minds  ; 
and  religion  is  scarce  any  more  a  discipline  to  them,  than  it  is 
to  creatures  in  a  state  of  perfection.  Yet  these  persons  may 
possibly  stand  in  need  of  moral  discipline  and  exercise,  in  a 
higher  degree  than  they  would  have  by  such  an  easy  practice 
of  religion.  Or  it  may  be  requisite,  for  reasons  unknown  to 
us,  that  they  should  give  some  further  manifestation  what  is 
their  moral  character,  to  the  creation  of  God,  than  such  a 
practice  of  it  would  be.  Thus,  in  the  great  vaiiety  of  religious 
situations  in  which  men  are  placed,  what  constitutes,  what 
chiefly  and  peculiarly  constitutes  the  probation,  in  all  senses, 
of  some  persons,  may  be  the  difficulties  in  which  the  evidence 
of  religion  is  involved ;  and  their  principal  and  distinguished 
trial  may  be,  how  they  will  behave  under  and  with  respect  to 
these  difficulties.  Circumstances  in  men's  situation  in  their 
temporal  capacity,  analogous  in  good  measure  to  this,  re- 
specting religion,  are  to  be  observed.  We  find,  some  persona 
are  placed  in  such  a  situation  in  the  world,  as  that  their  chief 
difficulty,  with  regard  to  conduct,  is  not  the  doing  what  is 
prudent  when  it  is  known  ;  for  this,  in  numberless  cases,  is 
as  easy  as  the  contrary :  but  to  some,  the  principal  exercise 
is,  recollection,  and  being  upon  their  guard  against  deceits ; 
the  deceits,  suppose,  of  those  about  them  ;  against  false  ap- 
pearances of  reason  and  prudence.  To  persons  in  some  situa- 
tions, the  principal  exercise,  with  respect  to  conduct,  is  atten- 
tion, in  order  to  inform  themselves  what  is  proper,  what  is 
really  the  reasonable  and  prudent  part  to  act. 

But  as  I  have  hitherto  gone  upon  supposition,  that  men's 
dissatisfaction  with  the  evidence  of  religion,  is  not  owing  tc 
their  neglects  or  prejudices  ;  it  must  be  added,  on  the  other 
hand,  in  all  common  reason,  and  as  what  the  truth  of  the 
tose  plainly  n  quires  should  be  added,  that  such  dissatisfac 


.JHAP.  VI.]  SUFPPOSED    DEFICIENCY    IN    ITS    PROOF.  207 

tor.  possibly  may  be  owing  to  those,  possibly  may  be  men?3 
own  fault.     For, 

If  there  are  any  persons,  who  never  se:  themselves  heartily, 
and  in  earnest,  to  be  informed  in  religion  ,  if  there  are  any, 
who  secretly  wish  it,  may  not  prove  true,  and  are  less  atten- 
tive to  evidence  than  to  difficulties,  and  more  to  objections 
than  to  what  is  said  in  answer  to  them  ;  these  persons  will 
scarce  be  thought  in  a  likely  way  of  seeing  the  evidence  of 
religion,  though  it  were  most  certainly  true,  and  capab.le  of 
being  ever  so  fully  proved.  If  any  accustom  themselves  to 
consider  this  subject  usually  in  the  way  of  mirth  and  sport  j 
if  they  attend  to  forms  and  representations,  and  inadequate 
manners  of  expression,  instead  of  the  real  things  intended  by 
them,  (for  signs  often  can  be  no  more  than  inadequately  ex- 
pressive of  the  things  signified :)  or  if  they  substitute  human 
errors  in  the  room  of  divine  truth  ;  why  may  not  all,  or  any 
of  these  things,  hinder  some  men  from  seeing  that  evidence 
which  really  is  seen  by  others  ;  as  a  like  turn  of  mind,  with 
respect  to  matters  of  common  speculation,  and  practice,  does, 
we  iind  by  experience,  hinder  them  from  attaining  that  know- 
ledge and  right  understanding,  m  matters  of  common  specu- 
lation and  practice,  which  more  fair  and  attentive  minds  at- 
tain to  ?  And  the  effect  will  be  the  same,  whether  their  neg- 
lect of  seriously  considering  the  evidence  of  religion,  and  their 
indirect  behaviour  with  regard  to  it,  proceed  from  mere  care- 
lessness, or  from  the  grosser  vices  ;  or  whether  it  be  owing 
to  this,  that  forms,  and  figurative  manners  of  expression,  as 
well  as  errors,  administer  occasions  of  ridicule,  when  the 
tilings  intended,  and  the  truth  itself,  would  not.  Men  may 
indulge  a  ludicrous  turn  so  far,  as  to  lose  all  sense  of  conduct 
and  prudence  in  worldly  affairs,  and  even,  as  it  seems,  to 
impair  their  facult}7  of  reason.  And  in  general,  levity,  care- 
lessness, passion,  and  prejudice,  do  hinder  us  from  being 
rightly  informed,  with  respect  to  common  things  ;  and  they 
may,  in  like  manner,  and  perhaps  in  some  farther  providential 
manner,  with  respect  to  moral  and  religious  subjects ;  may 
hinder  e  /idence  from  being  laid  before  us,  and  from  being  seen 
when  it  is.  The  Scripture*  does  declare,  '  that  every  one 
shall  not  understand.'  And  it  makes  no  difference  by  what 

*  Dan.  xii.  10.  See  also  Isa.  xxix.  13, 14.  Matt.  vi.  23,  and  xi.  25, 
iml  x.xiii.  1 1,  12.  John  iii.  9.  John  v.  44.  1  Cor.  ii.  14,  and  2  Cor.  iv. 
4.  2  Tim.  iii.  13  ;  and  that  affectionate,  as  well  as  authoritative  admo- 
nition, so  very  mat  y  times  inculcated,  '  He  that  hath  ears  to  he.ir,  let 
him  hear.'  Grrotius  saw  so  strongly  the  thing;  intended  in  these  and 


208  REVELATION    NOT    UNIVERSAL:  [ PART  11, 

provitl mtiiil  conduct  this  comes  to  pass;  whether  the  evi- 
dence of  Christianity  was,  originally  and  with  design,  put 
ai.'d  left  so,  as  that  those  who  are  desirous  of  evading-  moral 
obligarons,  should  not  see  it,  and  that  honest-minded  persona 
should  ;  or  whether  it  comes  to  pass  by  any  other  means. 

Farther:  The  general  proof  of  natural  religion  and  of  Chris 
tianity,  does,  I  think,  lie  level  to  common  men ;  even  those, 
the  greatest  part  of  whose  time,  from  childhood  to  old  age,  \a 
taken  up  with  providing,  for  themselves  and  their  families,  the 
common  conveniences,  perhaps  necessaries  of  l\fo '  those  I 
mean,  of  this  rank,  who  ever  think  at  all  of  asking  after 
proof,  or  attending  to  it.  Common  men,  were  they  as  much 
in  earnest  about  religion  as  about  their  temporal  affairs,  are 
capable  of  being  convinced  upon  real  evidence,  that  there  is  a 
God  who  governs  the  world ;  and  they  feel  themselves  to 
be  of  a  moral  nature,  and  accountable  creatures.  And  as 
Christianity  entirely  falls  in  with  this. their  natural  sense  of 
things  ;  so  they  are  capable,  not.  only  of  being  persuaded,  but 
of  being  made  to  see,  that  there  is  evidence  of  miracles 
wrought  in  attestation  of  it,  and  many  appearing  completions 
of  prophecy.  But  though  this  proof  is  real  and  conclusive, 
yet  it  is  liable  to  objections,  and  may  be  run  up  into  difficul- 
ties ;  which,  however,  persons  who  are  capable,  not  only  of 
talking  of,  but  of  really  seeing,  are  capable  also  of  seeing 
through  ;  i.  e.  not  of  clearing  up  and  answering  them,  so  as 
to  satisfy  their  curiosity,  for  of  such  knowledge  we  are  not 
capable  with  respect  to  any  one  thing  in  nature  ;  but  capable 
of  seeing  that  the  proof  is  not  lost  in  these  difficulties,  or  de- 
s'.royed  bv  these  objections.  But  then  a  thorough  examina- 
tion into  religion,  with  regard  to  these  objections,  which  can- 
not be  the  business  of  every  man,  is  a  matter  of  pretty  large 
compass,  and  from  the  nature  of  it,  requires  some  knowledge. 
ns  well  as  lime  and  attention,  to  see  how  the  evidence  comes 
out,  upon  balancing  one  thing  with  another,  and  what,  upon 
the  whole  is  the  amount  of  it.  Now,  if  persons  who  have 
picked  up  these  objections  from  others,  and  take  for  granted 
they  are  of  weight,  upon  the  word  of  those  from  whom  they 
received  them,  or,  by  often  retailing  of  them,  come  to  see.  or 
fancy  the}'  see,  them  to  be  of  weight,  will  not  prepare  them- 
selves for  such  an  examination,  with  a  competent  degree  of 

other  passages  of  Scripture  of  the  like  sense,  as  to  say,  that  the  j>roo' 
^ivcn  us  of  "Christianity  was  less  than  it  might  have  l»ecn,  for  this  very 
purpose  :  Ut  ita  sermo  Evrtngelii  tanqitam  lapis  esset  Lyiliux  ml  quern  in- 
gtnia  sanabilia  txplorartntur.  D~  Ver.  R.  C.  1. 2.  towarda  the  end. 


(MAP.  VI.  ]    SUPPOSED    DEFICIENCY    IN    ITS    PROOF.  209 

knowledge;  or  will  not  give  that  time  and  attentijn  to  the 
subject,  which,  from  the  nature  of  it,  is  necessary  for  attaining1 
such  information  :  in  this  case,  they  must  remain  in  doubtful- 
nods,  ignorance,  or  error ;  in  the  same  way  as  th<  _v  must 
with  regard  to  common  sciences,  and  matters  of  common  lite, 
if  ihey  neglect  the  necessary  means  of  being  informed  in 
them. 

But  still,  perhaps,  it  will  be  objected,  that  if  a  prince  or 
caminon  master  were  to  send  directions  to  a  servant,  he  would 
take  care,  that  they  should  always  bear  the  certain  r-.-'ks 
who  they  came  from,  and  that  their  sense  should  be  al  Viiys 
pi.iin ;  so  as  that  there  should  be  no  possible  doubt,  if  Lc 
could  help  it,  concerning  ihs  authority  or  meaning  of  them. 
Now,  the  proper  answer  to  all  this  kind  of  objections  is,  that, 
wherever  the  fallacy  lies,  it  is  even  certain  we  cannot  argue 
thus  with  respect  to  Him  who  is  the  governor  of  the  world  ; 
aivl  p  irticularly,  that  he  does  not  afford  us  such  information, 
with  repjet  to  our  temporal  affairs  and  interests,  as  experience 
abund.uuly  shows.  However,  there  is  a  full  answer  to  this 
objection,  from  the  very  nature  of  religion.  For,  the  reason 
why  a  prince  would  give  his  directions  in  this  plain  manner, 
U,  th  it  he  absolutely  desires  such  an  external  action  should 
be  done,  without  concerning  himself  wi:h  the.  motive  or  prin- 
ciple upon  which  it  is  done  :  i.  e.  he  regards  only  the  external 
event,  or  the  thing's  being  clone,  and  not.  at  all,  properly 
speaking,  the  doing  of  it,  or  the  action.  Whereas  the  whole 
of  motality  an.l  religion  consisting  merely  in  action  itself, 
there  is  no  sort  of  parallel  between  the  causes.  But  if  the 
prince  be  supposed  to  regard  only  the  action;  t.  e.  only  to 
desire  to  exercise,  or  in  any  sense  prove,  the  understanding 
or  loyalty  of  a  servant,  he  would  not  ahvavs  give  his  orders 
In  such  a  plain  manner.  It  may  be  proper  to  add,  that  the 
will  of  God,  respecting  morality  and  religion,  may  be  consid- 
ered, either  as  absolute,  or  as  only  conditional.  If  it  be  abso- 
lute, it  can  only  be  thus,  that  we  should  act  virtuously  in 
eucli  given  circumstances;  not  that  we  should  be  brought 
to  act  so,  by  his  changing  of  our  circumstances.  And  if 
(Jio-l's  will  be  thus  absolute,  then  it  is  in  our  power,  in  the 
hi.r:-h?3t  aivl  strictest  sense,  to  do  or  to  contradict  his  will ; 
which  is  a  most  weighty  considers  ion.  Or  his  will  may  be 
oonsidered  only  as  conditional, — 'hat  if  we  act  so  ami  so,  we 
shall  b«  rewarded;  if  otherwise,  punisbod:  of  which  condi- 
tional will  of  the  Author  of  nature,  tl  e  whole  constitution  of 
t  affords  most  certain  instances. 


210  REVELATION    KOI    UKIVERSAV:  ("PART  11. 

Upon  the  whole :  That  vre  are  in  a  state  of  religion  neces- 
sarily implies,  that  we  are  in  a  state  of  probation;  and  the 
ci  edibility  of  our  being  at  all  in  such  a  state  being  admitted, 
there  seems  no  peculiar  difficulty  in  supposing  our  probation 
to  be,  just  as  it  is,  in  those  respects  which  are  above  objected 
against.  Theve  seems  no  pretence  from  the  reason  of'  Hit 
thing  to  say,  that  the  trial  cannot  equitably  be  any  thing, 
but  whether  persons  will  act  suitably  to  certain  infomation, 
or  such  as  admits  no  room  for  doubt;  so  as  that  there  cun  be  no 
danger  of  miscarriage,  but  eitner  from  their  not  attending  to 
what  they  certainly  know,  or  from  overbearing  passion  hurry- 
ing them  on  to  act  contrary  to  it.  For,  since  ignorance  and 
doubt  afford  scope  for  probation  in  all  senses,  as  really  as  in- 
tuitive conviction  or  certainty  ;  and  since  the  two  former  are 
to  be  put  to  the  same  account  as  difficulties  in  practice ;  men's 
moral  probation  may  also  be,  whether  they  will  take  due  care 
to  inform  themselves  by  impartial  consideration,  and  afterwards 
whether  they  will  act  as  the  case  requires,  upon  the  evidence 
which  they  have,  nowever  doubtful.  And  this,  we  find  by 
cxperie}ice,  is  frequently  our  probation,  in  our  temporal  ca- 
pacity. For  the  information  which  we  want,  with  regard  tc 
our  worldly  interests,  is  by  no  means  always  given  us  of 
course,  without  any  care  of  our  own.  And  we  arc  greatly 
liable  to  self-deceit  from  inward  secret  prejudices,  and  also  to 
the  deceit  of  others.  So  that  to  be  able  to  judge  what  is  the 
prudent  part,  often  requires  nrmch  and  difficult  consideration. 
Then,  after  we  have  judged  the  very  best  we  can,  the  evidence 
upon  which  we  must  act,  if  we  live  and  act  at  all,  is  perpetually 
doubtful  to  a  very  high  degree.  And  the  constitution  and 
course  of  the  world  in  fact  is  such,  as  that  want  of  impartial 
consideration  what  we  have  to  do,  and  venturing  upon  extra- 
vagant courses,  because  it  is  doubtful  what  will  be  the  conse- 
quence, are  often  naturally,  i.  e.  providentially,  altogether  as 
fatal,  as  misconduct  occasioned  by  heedless  inattention  to 
what  we  certainly  know,  or  disregarding  it  from  overbearing 
passion. 

Several  of  the  observations  here  made  mny  well  seem 
strange,  perhaps  unintelligible,  to  many  good  men.  But  il 
the  persons  for  whose. sake  they  are  made,  think  so;  persons 
who  object  as  above,  and  throw  off  all  regard  to  reliuion  un- 
der pretence  of  want  of  evidence  ;  1  desire  them  to  confide! 
again  whether  their  thinking  so,  be  owing  to  any  thing  unin- 


CI1AP.  TT.]    SUPPOSED    DEFICIENCY    IN    ITS    PROOF.  211 

teiiigiblc  in  these  observations,  or  to  their  own  not  having  such 
a  sense  of  religion  and  serious  solicitude  about  it,  as  even 
their  state  of  scepticism  does  in  all  reason  require  ?  It  ought 
to  be  forced  upon  the  reflection  of  these  persons  that  our  na- 
ture and  condition  necessarily  require  us,  in  the  daily  course 
of  life,  to  act  upon  evidence  much  lower  than  what  is  com- 
monly called  probable,  to  guar  1,  not  only  against  what  we 
fuJly  believe  will,  but  also  against  what  we  think  it  supposa- 
ble  may,  happen  ;  and  to  engage  in  pursuits  when  the  proba- 
bility is  greatly  against  success,  if  it  be  credible  that  Doeeibly 
ve  may  succeed  in  them. 

11* 


F   THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Of  ilera  \iculai  Evidence  for  Christianity 

THE  presumptions  agfx;nst  revelation,  and  objections  against 
the  general  scheme  of  Christianity,  and  particular  things  re- 
lating to  it,  being  removed,  there  remains  to  be  consiifered, 
what  positive  evidence  we  have  for  the  truth  of  it ;  chiefly  in 
order  to  see,  what  the  analogy  of  nature  suggests  with  regard 
to  that  evidence,  and  the  objections  against  it ;  or  to  see  what 
is,  and  is  allowed  to  be,  the  plain  natural  rule  of  judgment 
and  of  action,  in  our  temporal  concerns,  in  cases  where  we 
have  tho  same  kind  of  evidence,  arid  the  same  kind  of  obj-jc 
lions  against  it,  that  we  have  in  the  case  before  us.  Now,  in 
the  evidence  of  Christianity,  there  seems  to  be  several  things 
of  great  weight,  not  reducible  to  the  head,  either  of  miracles,  or 
the  completion  of  prophecy,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
words.  But  these  two  are  its  direct  and  fundamental  proofs ; 
and  those  other  things,  however  considerable  they  are,  yet 
ought  never  to  be  urged  apart  from  its  direct  proofs,  but  always 
to  be  joined  with  them.  Thus  the  evidence  of  Christianity 
will  be  a  long  series  of  things,  reaching,  as  it  seems,  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  to  the  present  time,  of  great  variety 
and  compass,  taking  in  both  the  direct,  and  also  the  collateral 
proofs,  and  making  up,  all  of  them  together,  one  argument  j 
the  conviction  arising  from  which  kind  of  proof  may  be  com- 
pared to  what  they  call  the  effect  in  architecture  or  other 
works  of  art ;  a  result  from  a  great  number  of  things  so  and  so 
disposed,  and  taken  into  one  view.  I  shall  therefore,  first, 
make  some  observations  relating  to  miracles,  and  the  appear- 
ing completions  of  prophecy  ;  and  consider  what  analogy  sug- 
gests, in  answer  to  the  objections  brought  against  this  evi- 
dence. And,  secondly,  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  some  ac- 
count of  the  general  argument  now  mentioned,  consisting 
both  of  the  direct  and  collateral  evidence,  considered  as  making 


CHAP.   VII.]  FOP.    CHRISTIANITY.  213 

up  one  argument ;  this  being  the  kind  of  proof  upon  which  *xe 
determine  most  questions  of  difficulty  conceniingccmmon  facts, 
alleged  ro  have  happened,  or  seeming  likely  to  hnp|jen  ;  es- 
pecially questions  relating  to  conduct. 

First,  i  shall  make  some  observations  upon  the  direct  proof 
of  Christianity  from  miracles  and  prophecy,  and  upon  the  ob- 
jections alleged  against  it. 

I.  Now,  the  following  observations,  relating  to  the  histoii- 
cal  evidence  of  miracles  wrought  in  attestation  of  Christia- 
nity, appear  to  be  of  great  weight. 

].  The  Old  Testament  affords  us  the  same  historical  evi- 
dence of  the  miracles  of  Moses  and  of  the  prophets,  as  of  the 
common  civil  history  of  Moses  and  the  kings  of  Israel ;  or.  as 
of  the  affairs  of  the  Jewish  nation.  And  the  Gospels  and  ihe 
Acts  afford  us  the  same  historical  evidence  of  the  miracles  of 
Christ  and  the  Apostles,  as  of  the  common  matters  related  in 
them.  This,  indeed,  could  not  have  been  affirmed  by  an}'  rea- 
sonabl  man,  if  the  authors  of  these  books,  like  many  othci 
historians,  had  appeared  to  make  an  entertaining  manner  of 
writing  their  aim  ;  though  they  had  interspersed  miracles  in 
their  works,  at  proper  distances,  and  upon  proper  occasions. 
These  might  have  animated  a  dull  relation,  amused  the 
reader,  and  engaged  his  attention.  And  the  same  account 
would  naturally  have  been  given  of  them,  as  of  the  speeches 
and  descriptions  of  such  authors ;  the  same  account,  ir  a 
manner,  as  is  to  be  given,  why  the  poets  make  use  of  won- 
ders and  prodigies.  But  the  facts,  both  miraculous  and 
natural,  in  Scripture,  are  related  in  plain  unadorned  narra- 
tives; and  both  of  them  appear,  in  all  respects,  to  stand 
upon  the  same  foot  of  historical  evidence.  Farther :  Some 
parts  of  Scripture,  containing  an  account  of  miracles  fully 
sufficient  to  prove  the  truth  of  Christianity,  are  quoted  as 
genuine,  from  the  age  in  Vnich  they  are  said  to  be  written, 
down  to  the  present:  and  no  other  parts  of  them,  material 
in  the  present  question,  are  omitted  to  be  quoted,  in  such  man- 
ner as  to  afford  any  sort  of  proof  of  their  not  being  genuine. 
And,  as  common  history,  when  called  in  question  in  i\ny  in- 
stance, may  often  be  greatly  confirmed  by  contemporary  or 
subsequent  events  more  known  and  acknowledged  ;  and  as 
the  common  Scripture  history,  like  many  others,  is  thus  con- 
firmed ;  so  likewise  is  the  miraculous  history  of  it,  not  only 
in  particular  instances,  but  in  general.  For,  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  religions,  which  were  events 
contemporary  with  the  miracles  related  to  be  wrougiu  m  i»»- 


214  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  U 

testation  of  both,  or  subsequent  to  them,  these  events  are  ius! 
what  we  should  have  expected,  upon  supposition  such  mira. 
cles  were  really  wrought  to  attest  the  truth  of  those  religions, 
These  miracles  are  a  satisfactory  account  of  those  events, 
of  which  no  other  satisfactory  account  can  be  given,  nor  any 
account  at  all,  but  what  is  imaginaiy  merely  and  invente  !. 
It  is  tc  te  added,  that  the  most  obvious,  the  most  easy  and 
direct  account  of  this  history,  how  it  carr.e  to  be  written  and 
to  be  received  in  the  world,  as  a  true  history,  is,  that  it  really 
is  so ;  nor  can  any  other  account,  of  it  be  easy  and  direct. 
Now,  though  an  account,  not  at  all  obvious,  but  very  far- 
fetched and  indirect,  rnajr  indeed  be,  and  often  is,  the  true  ac- 
count of  a  matter ;  yet,  it  cannot  be  admitted  on  the  authority 
of  its  being  asserted.  Mere  guess,  supposition,  and  possibility, 
when  opposed  to  historical  evidence  prove  nothing,  but  that 
historical  evidence  is  not  demonstrative. 

Now,  the  just  consequence  from  all  this,  I  think,  is,  that 
the  Scripture  history,  in  general,  is  to  be  admitted  as  an  au- 
thentic genuine  history,  till  somewhat  positive  be  alleged 
sufficient  to  invalidate  it.  But  r>o  man  will  deny  the  conse 
quence  to  be,  that  it  cannot  be  rejected,  or  thrown  by  as  ol 
no  authority,  till  it  can  be  proved  to  be  of  none  ;  even  though 
the  evidence  now  mentioned  for  its  authority  were  doubtful. 
This  evidence  may  be  confronted  by  historical  evidence  on 
the  other  side,  if  there  be  any  ;  or  general  incredibility  in  the 
things  related,  or  inconsistence  in  the  general  turn  of  the  his- 
tory, would  prove  it  to  be  of  no  authority.  But  since,  upon 
the  face  of  the  matter,  upon  a  first  and  general  view,  the  ap- 
pearance is,  that  it  is  an  authentic  history,  it  cannot  be  deter- 
mined to  be  fictitious  without  some  prcof  that  it  is  so.  And 
the  following  observations,  in  support  of  these  and  coincident 
with  them,  will  greatly  confirm  the  historical  evidence  for  the 
tiuth  of  Christianity. 

2.  The  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  from  the  nature  of  epistolary 
writing,  and  moreover,  from  several  of  them  being  written, 
not  to  particular  persons,  but  to  churches,  carry  in  them  evi- 
dences  of  their  being  genuine,  beyond  what  can  be,  in  a  mere 
historical  narrative,  left  to  the  world  at  large.  This  evidence, 
icined  with  that  which  they  have  in  common  with  the  rest  ol 
the  New  Testament,  seems  not  to  leave  so  much  as  nny  par- 
ticular pretence  for  denying  their  genuineness,  consulm-d  as 
an  ordinary  matter  of  fact,  or  of  criticism  :  I  say.  particular 
pretence  for  denying  it ;  because  any  single  fact,  of  such  a 
kind  and  such  antiquity,  may  have  general  doubts  raised  con- 


fHAP.  VII.  J  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  215 

rerning  it,  from  the.  very  nature  of  human  affairs  and  human 
testimony.  There  is  also  to  be  mentioned,  a  distinct  and  par- 
ticular evidence  of  the  genuineness  of  the  epistle  chiefly  re- 
ferred to  here,  the  first  to  the  Corinthians  ;  horn  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  quoted  by  Clemens  Romanus,  in  an  epistie  oi 
his  cwn  to  that  church.*  Now,  these  epistles  afford  a  pioof 
of  Christianity,  detached  from  all  others,  which  is,  I  think,  a 
thing  of  weight ;  and  also  a  proof  of  a  nature  and  kind  pe- 
c1  iliar  to  itself.  For, 

In  them  the  author  declares  that  he  received  the  gospel  in 
general,  and  the  institution  of  the  communion  in  particular, 
noi  from  the  rest  of  the  Apostles,  or  jointly  together  with 
them,  but  alone  from  Christ  himself;  whom  he  declares,  like- 
wise conformably  to  the  history  in  the  Acts,  that  he  saw  after 
his  ascension. "j"  So  that  the  testimony  of  St  Paul  is  lo  bo 
considered,  as  detached  from  that  of  the  rest  of  the  Apostles. 

And  he  declares  farther,  that  he  was  endued  v/ith  a  power 
of  working  miracles,  as  what  was  publicly  known  to  those 
very  people  ;  speaks  of  frequent  and  great  variety  of  miracu- 
lous gifts,  as  then  subsisting  hi  those  very  churches  to  which 
ne  was  writing;  which  he  was  reproving  for  several  irregu- 
larities ;  and  where  he  had  personal  opposers  :  he  mentions 
these  gifts  incidentally,  in  the  most  easy  manner,  and  without 
effort ;  by  way  of  reproof  to  those  who  had  them,  for  their 
indecent  use  of  them  ;  and  by  way  of  depreciating  them,  in 
comparison  of  moral  virtues.  In  short,  he  speaks  to  these 
churches  of  these  miraculous  powers,  in  the  manner  any  one 
would  speak  to  another  of  a  thing,  which  was  as  familiar, 
and  as  much  known  in  common  to  them  both,  as  any  thing 
in  the  world.];  And  this,  as  has  been  observed  by  several 
persons,  is  suroly  a  wry  considerable  thing. 

3.  It  13  an  acknowledged  historical  fact,  that  Christianity 
offered  itself  to  the  world  and  demanded  to  be  received,  upon 
the  allegation,  i.  e..as  unbelievers  would  speak,  upon  the  pre- 
tence of  miracles,  publicly  wrought  to  attest  the  truth  of  it.  in 
BUCO.  an  age ;  and  that  it  was  actually  received  by  great 
r.'umboisin  that  very  age,  and  upon  the  professed  belief  of  the 
reality  of  these  miracles.  And  Christianity,  including  the  dis- 
pensation of  the  Old  Testament,  seems  ul'tinguishetf  by  this 
from  all  other  religions.  1  mean,  that  this  J^es  not  appeal 

*  Clem.  Rom.  Ep.  i.  r.  47. 
t  Gal.  L     1  Cor.  xi.  23,  &c.     1  Cor.  xv.  3. 

1  Rom.  xv.  19.  1  Cor.  xii.  S,  9,  10—23,  &c.  and  chap.  xiii.  1,  S,  3 
juid  the  whole  xivth  chap.  2  Ccr.  xii.  12,  IS.  GaL  lii.  2.,  5. 


g 

216  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  II 

tc  be  the  case  with  regard  to  any  other :  for  surely  it  will  not 
he  supposed  to  lie  upon  any  person,  to  prove,  by  positive  his- 
torical evidence,  that  it  \vas  not.  It  does  in  no  sort  appear 
that»Mahometanism  was  first  received  in  the  world  upon  tiie 
fool  of  supposed  miracles,*  i.  e.  public  ones:  for,  as  revelutien 
is  itself  miraculous,  all  pretence  to  it  must  necessarily  i:T:p]y 
some  pretence  of  miracles.  And  it  is  a  known  fact,  that  it 
was  immediately,  at  the  very  first,  propagated  by  other 
means.  And  as  particular  institutions,  whether  in  paganism 
or  popery,  said  to  be  confirmed  by  miracles  after  those  insti- 
tutions bad  obtained,  are  not  to  the  purpose  ;  so,  were  there 
what  might  be  called  historical  proof,  that  any  of  them  were 
introduced  by  a  supposed  divine  command,  believed  to  be  at- 
tested by  miracles,  these  would  not  be  in  >.my  wise  parallel. 
For  sinirle  things  of  tins  sort  are  easy  to  be  accounted  for. 
after  parlies  are  formed,  and  have  power  in  their  hands  ;  and 
the  leaders  of  them  are  in  veneration  wilh  ihe  multitude' 
and  political  interests  are  blended  with  religious  rkims,  and 
religious  distinctions.  But  before  any  thing  of  t.hi?  kind,  for 
a  few  persons,  and  those  of  the  lowest  rank,  all  at  cnce  tc 
bring  over  such  great  numbers  to  a  new  religion,  and  get  it 
to  be  received  upon  the  particular  evidence  of  miracles  ;  »hi.« 
is  quite  another  thing.  And  I  think  it  will  be  allowed  by 
any  fair  adversary,  that  the  fact  now  mentioned,  taking  in 
all  the  circumstances  of  it,  is  peculiar  to  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. However,  the  fact  itself  is  allowed,  that  Christianity 
obtained,  t.  e.  was  professed  to  be  received  in  the  world,  upon 
the  belief  of  miracles,  immediately  in  the  age  in  which  it  is 
said  fhose  miracles  were  wrought :  or  that  this  is  what  its 
first  converts  would  have  alleged,  as  the  reason  for  their  em- 
bracing it.  Now,  certainly  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  such 
numbers  of  men,  in  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  world,  should 
forsake  the  religion  of  their  country,  in  which  they  had  been 
educate-.! ;  separate  themselves  from  their  friends,  particularly 
in  their  festival  shows  and  solemnities,  to  which  the  coinino") 
people  are  so  greatly  addicted,  and  which  were  of  a  natius 
to  engage  them  much  more  than  any  thing  of  that  scrt 
amongst  us  ;  and  embrace  a  religion  which  could  not  but  ex« 
pose  them  to  many  Inconveniences,  and  indeed  must  Lave 
been  a  giving  un  '.ue  world  in  a  great,  degree,  even  from  the 
verv  first,  an1'  cefbre  the  empire  engaged  in  form  against 
theiu;  it  cannot  be  supposed,  that  such  numbers  shouW 

*  See  the  Koran,  chap.  xiii.  and  cha 


CHAT,  VII.]  FOU    CHRISTIANITY.  21*7 

make  so  great,  and,  to  say  the  least,  so  inconvenient  a  change 
ai  their  whole  institution  of  life,  unless  they  wore  really  con- 
vinced of  the  truth  of  those  miracles,  upon  the  knowledge  or 
belief  of  which  they  professed  to  inake  it.  And  it  will,  1  sup- 
pose, readily  be  acknowledged,  that  the  generality  of  liie 
first  converts  to  Christianity  must  have  believed  them  ;  that 
f-.s,  by  becoming  Chrisiians,  they  declared  to  the  woild  they 
were  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  those  miracles,  so  this  declara- 
tion was  to  be  credited.  And  this  their  testimony  is  the 
same  kind  of  evidence  for  those  miracles,  as  if  they  had  p  it  it 
in  writing,  and  these  writings  had  rome  down  to  us.  And  it 
is  real  evidence,  because  it  is  of  facts,  which  they  had  capa- 
city and  full  opportunity  to  inform  themselves  of.  It  is  aho 
distinct  from  the  direct  or  express  historical  evidence,  though 
it  is  of  the  same  kind  ;  and  it  would  be  allowed  to  be  distinct 
in  all  cases.  For,  were  a  fact  expressly  related  by  one  or 
more  ancient,  historians,  and  disputed  in  after  ages  :  that  this 
fact  is  acknowledged  to  have  been  believed,  by  great  numbers 
of  the  age  in  which  the  historian  says  it  was  done,  would  be 
allowed  an  additional  proof  of  such  fact,  quite  distinct  from 
the  express  testimony  of  the  historian.  The  credulity  of 
nif  .UK!  is  acknowledged,  and  the  suspicions  of  mankind 
'  ^ght  to  be  acknowledged  too  ;  and  their  backwardness  even 
to  believe,  and  greater  still  to  practise,  what  makes  against 
their  interest.  And  it  must  particularly  be  remembered,  that 
education,  and  prejudice,  and  authority,  were  against  Chris- 
tianity, in  the  age  I  am  speaking  of.  So  that  the  immediate 
conversion  of  such  numbers,  is  a  real  presumption  of  some- 
what more  than  human  in  this  matter:  I  say  presumption, 
for  it  is  alleged  as  a.  proof,  alone  and  by  itself.  Nor  need  any 
one  of  the  things  mentioned  in  this  chapter  be  considered  as  a 
proof  by  itself;  and  yet  all  of  them  together  may  be  one  of 
the  strongest. 

Upon  the  whole,  as  there  is  large  historical  evidence,  both 
direct  arid  circumstantial,  of  miracles,  wrought  in  attestation  of 
Christianity,  collected  by  those  who  have  writ  upon  the  sub- 
ject ;  it  lies  upon  unbelievers  to  show  why  this  evidence  is  not 
to  be  credited.  This  way  of  speaking  is,  I  think,  just,  and 
what  persons  who  write  in  defence  of  religion  naturally  fall 
into.  Yet,  in  a  matter  of  such  unspeakable  importance,  the 
proper  question  is,  not  whom  it  lies  upon,  according  to  the 
rules  of  argument,  to  maintain  or  confute  objections;  but, 
whether  there  really  are  any  against  this  evidence,  sufficient, 
JO 


218  OP   THE    PARTICULAR   EVIDENCE  [f  ART  II. 

in  reason,  to  destroy  the  credit  of  it?     However,  unl*eiievers 
seern  to  take  upon  them  the  p.trt  of  showing  '.hat  th'.-re  are. 

They  allege,  that  numberless  enthusiastic  people,  ir  different 
ages  and  countries,  expose  themselves  to  the  same  difficulties 
wliich  the  primitive  Christians  did  ;  and  are  ready  to  give  up 
•licit'  lives,  for  the  most  idle  follies  imaginable.  But  it  is  not 
very  cl^ar,  U  what  purpose,  this  objection  is  brought;  fo* 
every  one,  sure!}',  in  every  case,  must  distinguish  between 
opinions  and  facts.  And  though  testimony  is  no  proof  of  en- 
tiuu'-.vdtic  opinions,  or  any  opinions  at  all ;  yet,  it  is  allowed,  in 
di!  oilier  cases  to  be  a  proof  of  facts.  And  a  person's  laying 
•io\vn  his  life  in  attestation  of  facts  or  of  opinions,  is  the 
strongest  proof  of  his  believing  them.  And  if  the  apostles 
an  1  their  contemporaries  did  believe  the  facts,  in  attestation  of 
which  they  exposed  themselves  to  sufferings  and  death  this 
tneir  belief,  or  rather  knowledge,  must  be  a  proof  of  those  facts  : 
tor  they  were  such  as  come  under  the  observation  of  their 
senses.  And  though  it  is  not  of  equal  weight,  yet  it  is  of 
weight,  tluit  the  martyrs  of  the  next  age,  notwithstanding 
tiiey  were  not  eye-witnesses  of  those  facts,  as  were  the 
(tno^ilcs  and  their  contemporaries,  had,  however,  full  oppor- 
nmitv  to  inform  themselves,  whether  they  were  true  c  not, 
.and  give  equal  proof  of  their  believing  them  to  be  true. 

B:it  enthusiasm,  it.  is  said,  greatly  weakens  the  evidence  QJ 
Testimony  even  for  facts,  in  matters  relating  to  religion ;  some 
seem  to  think,  it  totally  and  absolutely  destroys  the  evidence  of 
rest  imony  upon  the  subject.  And,  indeed,  the  powers  of  enthu- 
siasm, and  of  diseases,  too,  which  operate  in  a  like  manner,  are 
very  wonderful,  in  particular  instances.  But  if  great  numbers 
of  men  not  appearing  in  any  peculiar  degree  weak,  nor  under 
unv  peculiar  suspicion  of  negligence,  affirm  that  they  saw  and 
r.eard  such  things  plainly  with  their  eyes  and  their  ears,  and 
are  admitted  to  be  in  earnest ;  such  testimony  is  evidence  of 
rJie  strongest  kind  we  can  have  for  any  matter  of  fact.  Yetj 
possibly  it  may  be  overcome,  strong  as  it  is,  by  incredibility  in 
'ho  things  thus  attested,  or  by  contrary  testimony.  And  in 
i\.n  instance  where  one  thought  it  was  so  overcome,  it  might 
be  just  to  consider,  how  far  such  evidence  could  be  accounted 
for  by  enthusiasm  ;  for  it  seems  as  if  no  other  imaginable  ac- 
count were  to  be  given  of  it.  But  till  such  incredibility  be 
shown,  or  contrary  testimony  produced,  it  cannot  surely  b« 
expected,  th.it  so  far-fetched,  so  indirect  anu  wonderful  an  ac 
count  of  such  testimony,  as  that  of  enthusiasm  must  bo  ;  an 
account  so  strange,  that  the  generality  of  mankind  can  scare* 


CHAP.   VII. J  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  219 

he  mode  tc  understand  \vLat  is  meant  by  it ;  it  cnnnoi,  [  say 
ht-  oxpeeted,  that  such  account  will  be  admitted  of  such  ovt 
jc-nce,  when  there  is  this  direct,  easy,  and  obviuua  account 
of  it,  rliat  people  really  t;aw  and  heard  a  thing  i:ot  incredible 
which  i hay  affirm  sincerely,  and  \vith  full  assurance,,  they  dr.cj 
see  and  hear.  Granting,  then,  ih'at  enthusiasm  is  not  (s; i icily 
speaking)  an  absurd,  but.  a  possible  account  of  such  testi 
niony,  it  is  manifest  that  the  very  ineniion  of  it  goes,  upon  tht 
previous  supposition,  that  the  things  so  attested  are  incredi- 
ble :  and  therefore,  need  not  be  considered,  till  ihey  are  shown 
t,o  be  so.  Much  less  need  it  be  considered,  after  the  contrary 
hus  been  proved.  And  1  think  it  has  been  proved,  to  full 
satisfaction,  that  there  is  no  incredibility  in  a  revelation,  in 
general,  or  in  such  a  one  as  the  Christian  in  particular. 
However,  as  religion  is  supposed  peculiarly  liable  to  enthusi- 
asm, it  may  just  be  observed,  that  prejudices  almost  without 
number  and  without  name,  romance,  affect  at  ion,  humour,  a 
desire  to  engage  attention  or  to  surprise,  the  party-spirit,  cus- 
tom, little  competition?,  unaccountable  likings  and  diolikinsrs  ; 
these  influence  men  strongly  in  common  matters  And  as 
these  prejudices  are  often  scarce  Known  or  reflected  upon  by 
the  persons  themselves  who  are  influenced  by  them,  they  are 
to  be  considered  as  influences  of  a  like  kind  to  enthusiasm. 
Yet  human  testimony  in  common  matters  is  naturally  and 
justly  believed  notwithstanding. 

It  is  intimated  farther,  in  a  more  refined  way  of  observa- 
tion, that  though  it  should  be  proved,  that  the  aposiles  and 
fiist  Christians  could  not,  in  some  respects,  be  deceived  them- 
selves, and,  in  other  respects,  cannot  be  thought  to  have  in- 
tended to  impose  upon  the  world,  yet,  it  will  not  follow,  that 
their  crrneral  testimony  is  to  be  believed,  though  truly  handed 
clown  to  us  ;  because  they  might  still  in  part,  i.  e.  in  o'h^r 
respects,  be  deceived  themselves,  and  in  part  also  designedly 
imposo  upon  others ;  which,  it  is  added,  is  a  thing  very  credi- 
ble, from  that  mixture  of  real  enthusiasm,  and  real  knavery, 
to  be  met  wiih  in  the  same  characters.  And,  I  must,  confess, 
1  think  the  matter  of  fact  contained  in  this  observation  upon 
n.anki  v.l,  is  not  to  be  denied  ;  and  that  somewnat  very  irr.ich 
?!in  tc  '..,  is  often  supposed  in  Scripture  as  a  very  common 
cnse.  av..«  most  severely  reproved.  But  it  were  to  have  been 
expected,  that  persons  capable  of  apply'.ng  this  observation  as 
appiipd  in  tho  objection,  might  also  frequently  have  met  with 
the  like  mixed  character,  in  instances  where  religion  was 
ul  of  the  case.  The  thing  plainly  is,  thai  mankind  arc 


220  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  II. 

naturally  endued  \\itl,  reason,  or  a  capacity  of  distinguishing 
between  irulh  and  falsehood;  and  as  naturally  they  are  en- 
clued  with  \eracity,  or  a  regaul  to  truth  in  \vhat  they  fay, 
but  from  many  occasions,  they  are  liable  to  be  prejudiced 
and  biassed,  and  deceived  themselves,  and  capable  of  intend- 
ing- >o  ieceive  others,  in  every  diti'erem  degree:  insomuch 
that,  as  we  are  all  liable  to  be  deceived  by  prejudice,  so  like- 
wise it  seems  to  be  not  an  uncommon  thing,  f*  persons,  wliOj 
from  their  regard  to  truth,  would  not  invent  a  lie  entirely 
without  any  foundation  at  all,  to  propagate  it  with  heighten 
ing  circumstances,  after  it  is  cnce  invented  and  set  agcinir. 
Aiuf  others,  though  they  would  not  propagate  a  lie,  yet, 
winch  is  a  lower  degree  of  falsehood,  -will  let'it  pass  without 
contradiction.  But,  notwithstanding  all  this,  human  teni- 
nriony  remains  still  a  natural  ground  of  assent ;  and  this 
assent,  a  natural  principle  of  action. 

It  is  objected  farther,  that  however  if  has  happened,  ihe 
fact  r<,  that  mankind  have,  in  different  ages,  been  strrngely 
deluded  with  pretences  to  miracles  and  wonders.  But  it  is 
by  no  means  to  be  admitted,  that  they  have  been  oftener,  01 
are  at  all  more  liable  to  be  deceived  by  these  ]-reUnces,  than 
by  others. 

It  is  added,  that  there  is  a  very  considerable  degreo  of  his. 
torical  evidence  for  miracles,  which  are  on  all  hands  acknow- 
ledged to  be  fabulous.  But  suppose  there  were  even  the  like 
historical  evidence  for  these,  to  \\hat  there  is  for  those  aliened 
in  proof  of  Christianity,  which  j'et  is  in  no  wise  allowed  ;  but 
suppose  tliis  ;  the  consequence  would  not  be,  the  evidence  oi 
the  latter  is  not  to  be  admitted.  Nor  is  there  a  man  in  the 
world  who,  in  common  cases,  would  conclude  thus.  For 
what  would  such  a  conclusion  really  amount  to  but  this,  that 
evidence,  confuted  by  contrary  evidence,  or  any  way  over- 
balanced, destroys  the  credibility  of  other  evidence,  neither 
confuted  nor  overbalanced?  To  argue,  that  because  thtie  ie 
if  ther?  were,  like  evidence  from  testimony,  for  miracles  nc 
kivjwl»;»|ired  false,  as  for  those  in  attestation  of  Christianity 
therefore  the  evidence  in  the  latter  case  is  not  to  be  credited 
this  is  the  same  as  to  argue,  that  if  two  men  of  equally  giioci 
reputation  had  given  evidence  in  different  cases  no  way  ccn- 
nected,  and  one  of  them  had  been  convicted  of  perjury,  tluV 
confuted  the  testimony  of  the  o'.her. 

Upon  .he  whole,  then,  the  general  observation  that  human 
creatures  are  so  liable  to  be  deceived,  from  enthusiasm  in  re- 
ligion, mid  principles  equivalent  to  enthusiasm  in  common 


SHAP.  VII.]  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  221 

matters,  and  in  both  from  negligence;  and  that  they  are  so 
capable  of  di.shoneotly  endeavouring  lo  deceive  Dilu.%rs  ;  this 
d.jjo  in  iecd  weaken  the  evidence  of  testimony  in  all  cases, 
but.  does  not  destroy  it  in  any.  And  these  things  \vi'J  appear, 
to  different  men,  to  weaken  the  evidence  of  tcstir.iony.  in 
different  degrees ;  in  degrees  proportionable  to  the  observa- 
tions they  have  made,  or  the  notions  they  have  any  way 
taken  up,  concerning  the  weakness,  and  negligence,  and  dis- 
honesty of  mankind;  or  concerning  the  powers  of  enthusi- 
asm, and  prejudices  equivalent  to  it.  But  it  seems  to  me, 
that  people  do  not  know  what  they  say.  who  affirm  ihese 
things  to  destroy  the  evidence  from  testimony,  which  we 
have  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Nothing  can  destroy  the 
evidence  of  testimony  in  any  case,  but  a  proof  or  probability, 
that  persons  are  not  competent  judges  of  the  facts  to  which 
they  give  testimony  ;  or  that  they  are  actually  under  some 
indirect  influence  in  giving  it.,  in  such  particular  case.  Till 
this  be  made  out,  the  natural  laws  of  human  actions  require, 
that  testimony  be  admitted.  It  can  never  bo  sufficient,  to 
overthrow  direct  historical  evidence,  indolently  to  say.  that 
there  are  so  many  principles,  from  whence  men  are  liable  to 
be  deceived  themselves  and  disposed  to  deceive  others,  espe- 
cially in  matters  of  religion,  that  one  knows  not  what  to  be- 
lieve. And  it  is  surprising  persons  can  help  reflecting,  that 
this  very  manner  of  speaking  supposes,  they  are  not  satisfied 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  evidence,,  of  which  they  speak 
;.hus  ;  or  that  they  can  avoid  observing,  if  they  do  make  this 
reflection,  that  it  is,  on  such  a  subject,  a  very  material  one.* 

And  over  against  all  these  objections,  is  to  be  set  the  ira 
portance  of  Christianity,  as  what  must  have  engaged  the  at- 
tention of  its  first  converts,  so  as  to  have  rendered  them  less 
liable  to  be  deceived  from  carelessness,  than  they  would  in 
common  matters  ;  and  likewise  the  strong  obligations  to  ve- 
racity, which  their  religion  laid  them  under:  so  that  tl.e  first 
Ps-nd  inost  ob/ious  presumption  is,  that  they  could  not  be  de^ 
ecived  themselves,  nor  would  deceive  others.  And  this  pro- 
sum;  tinn,  in  this  degree,  is  peculiar  to  the  testimony  we  have 
been  considering. 

[\\  argument,  assertions  are  not  lung  in  themselves,  and 
have  'in  air  of  positiveness,  which  sometimes  is  not  very 
easy;  yet  they  are  necessary,  and  necessary  to  be  ippratcd, 
in  order  to  connect  a  discourse,  and  distinctly  (o  lay  before  the 

*  See  the  foregoing  chapter. 


222  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  ( PART  It, 

view  of  the  reader  what  is  proposed  to  be  proved _,  and  what  is 
left  as  proved.  Now,  the  conclusion  from  the  foregoing  oi>*?*- 
vations  is,  I  think,  beyond  all  doubt,  this:  that,  unbelievcis 
must  bo  forced  to  admit  the  external  evidence  for  Christianity 
i.  e  the  proof  of  miracles  wrought  to  attest  it,  to  be  of  reai 
weight  and  very  considerable  ;  though  they  cannot  allow  it  to 
be  sufficient  to  convince  them  of  the  reality  of  those  miracles. 
And  as  they  must,  in  all  reason,  admit  this,  so  it  seems  to  me, 
that  upon  consideration  they  would,  in  fact,  admit  it ;  those 
of  them,  I  mean,  who  know  any  thing  at  all  of  the  matter : 
in  like  manner  as  persons,  in  many  cases,  own,  they  see 
strong  evidence  from  testimony,  for  the  truth  of  things,  which 
yet  they  cannot  be  convinced  are  true ;  cases,  suppose,  where 
there  is  contrary  testimony,  or  things  which  they  think, 
whether  with  or  without  reason,  to  be  incredible.  But  there 
is  no  testimony  contrary  to  that  which  we  have  been  con- 
sidering :  uii'l  it  has  been  fully  proved,  that  there  is  no  incredi- 
bility IM  Christianity  in  general,  or  in  any  part  of  it. 

II.  As  to  the  evidence  for  Christianity  from  prophecy,  I 
shall  only  make  some  few  general  observations,  which  are 
suggested  by  the  analogy  of  nature ;  i.  e.  by  the  acknow- 
ledged natural  rules  of  judging  in  common  matters,  concern 
i.ig  evidence  of  a  like  kind  to  this  from  prophecy. 

1.  Tb.3  obscurity  or  unintelligibleness  of  one  part  of  a 
prophecy,  does  not,  in  any  degree,^  invalidate  the  proof  of 
foresight,  arising  from  the  appearing  completion  of  those  other 
'-  puts  which  are  understood.  For  the  case  is  evidently  the 
same,  as  if  ihose  parts,  which  are  not  understood,  were  lost, 
or  not;  written  at  all,  or  written  in  an  unknown  tongue. 
WhtMlr-r  l his  observation  be  commonly  attended  to  or  not, 
it  i  i  so  evident,  that  one  can  scarce  bring  one's  self  to  set  down 
an  instaiK  e  in  common  matters,  to  exemplify  it.  However, 
twvpo^e  a  writing,  partly  in  cypher,  and  partly  in  plain  words 
at  iensrth,  ;.nd  that,  in  the  part  one  understood,  there  appeared 
mention  of  several  known  facts ;  it  would  never  come  into 
anv  man's  thoughts  .to  imagine,  that  if  he  understood  the 
whole,  p!>rh?.ps  he  might  find,  that  those  facts  were  not,  in 
re-ilitv,  known  by  the  writer.  Indeed,  both  in  this  example, 
an  !  '\\^,  thinir  intended  to  be  exemplified  by  it,  our  not  under- 
standing the  whole,  (the  whole,  suppose,  of  a  sentence  or  a 
|nri«rr:iph,)  vniirht  sometimes  occasion  a  doubt,  whether  one 
.in  ierstoo  I  ihe  literal  meaning  of  such  a  part ;  but  this  comes 
under  another  consideration. 

For  the  same  reason  though  a  man  should  be  incapable 


CHAP.  VH.J  FOR    CHRISTIAIUIT.  223 

for  want  of  learning,  or  op] iort unities  of  inquiry,  or  from  noi 
Having  turned  his  studies  this  way,  even  so  much  as  in  iudyp 
whethor  particular  prophecies  have  been  thr_mghout  com- 
pletely fulfilled  ;  yet  he  may  see,  in  general,  lhat  th«\y  Iwc 
been  fulfilled,  ID  such  a  degree,  as,  upon  very  good  ground 
to  be  convinced  of  foresight  more  than  human  in  such  pro 
phecies,*and  of  such  events  being  intended  by  them.  Ftv. 
the  same  reason  also,  though,  by  means  of  the  delic  icir:ie. 
in  civil  history,  and  the  different  accounts  of  historians,  the 
most  learned  should  not  be  able  to  make  out  to  satisfaction . 
that  such  parts  of  the  prophetic  history  have  been  minutely 
and  throughout  fulfilled  ;  yet  a  very  strong  proof  of  foresight 
may  arise  from  that  general  completion  of  them  \vhic  h  is 
made  out:  as  much  proof  of  foresight,  perhaps,  as  the  Giver 
of  prophecy  intended  should  ever  be  afforded  by  such  parts  ol 
prophecy. 

2.  A  long  series  of  prophecy  being  applicable  to  such  and 
such  events,  is  itself  a  proof,  that  it  was  intended  of  iheui : 
as  the  rules,  by  which  we  naturally  judge  and  determine,  in 
common  cases  parallel  to  this,  v/ill  show.  This  observation  J 
make  in  answer  to  the  common  objection  against  the  applica- 
tion of  the  prophecies,  that,  considering  each  of  them  distinctly 
bj'  itsfllr,  it  does  not  at  all  appear,  that  they  were  intended  of 
those  particular  events  to  which  they  are  applied  by  Chris- 
tians ;  and,  there-fore,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  that,  if  they  meant 
an}r  thing,  they  were  intended  of  other  events  unknown  to  us, 
and  not  of  these  at  all. 

Now,  there  are  two  kinds  of  writing,  which  bear  a  great 
resemblance  to  prophecy,  wi  n  respect  to  the  matter  before 
us  ;  the  mythological  and  the  satirical,  where  the  satire  is,  to 
a  certain  degree,  concealed.  And  a  man  might  be  usstired, 
that  he  understood  what  an  author  intended  by  a  fable  or 
parable,  related  without  any  application  or  moral,  merely 
from  seeing  it  to  be  easily  capable  of  such  application,  t;nd 
that  such  a  moral  might  naturally  be  deduced  from  it.  And 
he  might  be  fully  assured,  that  such  persons  and  events  were 
intended  in  a  satirical  writing,  merely  from  its  being  i.ppHca- 
ble  to  them.  And,  agreeably  to  the  last  observation,  he 
min'r.t  be  in  a  good  measure  satisfied  of  it,  tho-j.sh  he  were 
not  enough  informed  in  affair?;  or  in  the  story  of  sr.ch  persons, 
to  understand  half  the  satire.  For,  his  satisfaction,  that  he 
understood  ths  meaning,  the  intended  meaning,  of  thest 
writings,  should  be  greater  or  less,  in  proportion  as  he  saw  ihc 
general  turn  cf  them  to  be  capable  of  such  applies: inn  »uid 


S24  OF    THE    PARTICULAR*  EVIDENCE  [  TAUT  U 

\n  proportion  to  the  number  of  particular  things  capable  of  it 
And  thus,  if  a  long  series  of  prophecy  is  applicable  to  tiic 
present  state  of  the  church,  and  to  iho  poii.kal  si i nations  o. 
(he  kingdoms  of  the  world,  some  thousand  years  after  these 
piuphecies  were  delivered,  and  a  long  series  of  prophecy  de- 
livered before  the  coining  of  Christ  is  applicable  to  him  ;  these" 
tilings  are  in  themselves  a  proof,  that  the  prophetic  history 
-*•  a s  intended  of  him,  and  of  those  events  :  in  proportion  a"s 
the  general  turn  of  it  is  capable  of  such  application,  and  to 
tha  number  and  variety  of  particular  prophecies  capable  of  it. 
And,  though  in  all  just  way  of  consideration,  the  appearing 
completion  of  prophecies  is  to  be  allowed  to  be  thus  explara 
tory  of,  and  to  determine  their  meaning ;  yet  it  is  to  be  ro 
membered  farther,  that  the  ancient  Jews  applied  the  prophe- 
cies to  a  Messiah  before  his  coming,  in  much  the  same  man- 
ner as  Christians  do  now  ;  and  that  the  primitive  Christians 
interpreted  the  prophecies  respecting  the  state  of  the  church 
and  of  the  world  in  the  last  ages,  in  the  sense  which  the 
event  seems  to  confirm  and  verify.  And  from  these  things  it 
may  be  made  appear, 

3.  That  the  showing,  even  to  a  high  probability,  if  that 
could  be,  that,  the  prophets  thought  of  some  other  events,  in 
such  and  such  predictions,  and  not  those  at  all  which  Chris- 
tians allege  to  be  completions  of  those  predictions;  or  that 
such  and  such  prophecies  are  capable  of  being  applied  to 
other  events  than  those  to  which  Christians  apply  them — that 
this  would  not  confute  or  destroy  the  force  of  the  argument 
from  prophecy,  even  with  regard  to  those  very  instances.  For, 
observe  how  this  matter  really  is.  If  one  knew  such  a  per- 
son to  be  the  sole  author  of  such  a  book,  and  was  certainly- 
assured,  or  satisfied  to  any  degree,  that  one  knew  the  whole 
of  what  lie  intended  in  it.  one  should  be  assured  or  satisfied  tc 
such  degree,  that  one  knew  the  whole  meaning  of  that  book  ; 
for  the  meaning  of  a  book  is  nothing  but  the  meaning  of  the 
author.  But  if  one  knew  a  person  to  have  compiled  a  book 
out  of  memoirs,  which  he  received  from  another,  of  vastly  su- 
perior knowledge  in  the  subject  of  it,  especially  if  it  were  a 
book  full  of  great  intricacies  and  difficulties,  it  would  in  no 
wise  follow,  that  one  knew  the  whole  meaning  of  the  book. 
from  knowing  the  whole  meaning  of  the  compiler;  tor  trie 
original  memoirs,  i.  e.  the  author  of  their,  might  have,  and 
there  would  be  no  degree  of  presumption,  in  many  cases, 
against  supposing  him  to  have,  some  farther  moaning  thai; 
tho  compiler  saw.  To  say,  then,  that  the  Scr  pturfee  and  tin? 


CHAP.   VII.J  FOK.    CHRISTIANITY.  225 


thirns  contained  in  'hern  can  have  no  other  or  farther 
Big.  thcift  those  persons  thcuiii'.t  or  had,  who  first  recited  <« 
wrote  them,  is  evidently  saying,  that  those  persons  were  tin 
original,  proper,  and  sole  authors  of  those  books,  *.  e.  that  they 
aie  not  inspired;  which  is  absurd,  whilst  the  authority  «1 
these  books  is  under  examination,  i.  c.  till  you  have  determined 
liuy  ar-i  of  no  divine  authority  at  all.  Till  this  be  detei 
irvined,  it  iriust  in  all  reason  be  supposed.  not  indeed  that  ihcy 
l.'.ivf,  tbi  this  is  taking  for  granted  that  they  are  inspired,  but 
thai  the\  may  have,  some  further  meaning  than  what  the 
compilers  HI.W  or  understood.  And,  \ipon  this  supposition,  it 
is  supposahle  also,  that  this  farther  meaning  may  be  li.  Killed 
Now,  events  corresponding  to  prophecies,  interpreted  in  a  iiif 
ferent  meaning  from  that  which  the  prophets  are  supposed  to 
have  understood  them  ;  this  affords,  in  a  manner,  the  same 
proof  that  ih.is  different  sense  was  originally  intended,  as  it 
would  have  atir.rded,  if  the  prophets  had  not  understood  their 
predictions  in  the  sense  it  is  supposed  they  did  :  because  there 
is  no  presumption  of  their  sense  of  them  being  the  whole  sense 
of  them.  And  it  has  been  already  shown,  that  the  apparent 
completions  of  prophecy  must,  be  allowed  to  be  explanatory 
of  its  meaning.  So  that  the  question  is,  whether  a  seiies  01 
prophecy  has  been  fulfilled,  in  a  natural  or  proper,  i.  e.  in  any 
real  sense  of  the  words  of  it.  For  such  completion  is  equ-OJ.y 
a  proof  of  foresight,  more  than  human,  whether  the  prophfii- 
are,  or  are  not,  supposed  to  have  understood  it  in  a  difli-rer' 
sense.  I  say,  supposed  ;  for  though  I  think  it  clear,  that  th- 
prophets  did  not  understand  the  full  meaning  of  their  predic- 
tions, it  is  another  question,  how  far  they  thought  they  did 
ftii.l  in  what  sense  they  understood  them. 

Hence  ina  v  be  seen,  to  how  little  purpose  those  persons  busj 
themselves,  who  endeavour  to  prove  that  the  prophetic  hi^ton 
IE  appli  >f  hie  to  events  of  the  age  in  which  it  was  written,  o; 
of  ages  before  it.  Indeed,  to  have  proved  this  before  iher» 
v.-is  an\  appearance  of  a  farther  completion  of  it,  might  ha\c 
A.'ir-wered  some  jiuryiose:  for  it  might  have  prevented  ihe  ex- 
,'fdation  of  any  such  farther  completion.  Thus,  could  For- 
,ihvrv  hive  shown,  that  some  principal  parts  of  the  book  of 
Unniel,  for  instance,  the  seventh  verse  of  the  seventh  rhap'rr, 
which  the  Christians  interpreted  of  the  latter  aces,  was  appli- 
cable to  events  which  happened  before  or  about  the  age  oi 
Antiochus  Epiphanes  ;  this  might  have  prevented  them  from 
oxpecting  any  fa.ther  completion  of  it.  And  unlesr,  there  was 
then,  n.3  I  think  there  must  have  been,  external  evidencw  con- 


22G  OF    THF    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  I! 

ieniing  th;U  book,  more  than  is  come,  down  to  us,  such  o  di* 
covery  mi:rht  have  been  a  slumbling-hiuck  in  the  \Vity  oi 
CimsiiiUiuy  itst'if;  considering  slit-  authority  which  GUI  >Sa( 
vi'Miir  has  given  to  the  book  of  Daniel,  an.i  how  mm  h  the  gfj 
neral  scheme  of  Christianity  presupposes  the  truth  oi'ii!  Uui 
•jven  this  discovery,  had  there  been  any  such,*  would  bo  o' 
very  1'ttle  weight  with  reasonable  men  now  :  if  this  pas.wu-p. 
thus  applicable,  to  events  before  ths  age  of  Porphyiy,  appears 
to  be  api)licable  also  to  events,  which  succeeded  the  dissolution 
cf  I  ho  Roman  empire.  I  mention  this,  not  at  all  as  intending 
to  insinuate,  that  the  division  of  this  empire  into  len  parts,  for  it 
plainly  was  divided  into  about  that  number,  were,  alone  and 
by  itself,  of  any  moment  in  verifying  the  prophetic  history ; 
but  only  as  an  example  of  the  thing  I  am  speaking  of.  And 
thus,  upon  the  whole,  the  matter  of  inquiry  evidently  must  be, 
as  above  put,  Whether  the  prophecies  are  applicable  to  Christ, 
and  to  the  present  state  of  the  world  and  of  the  church  ;  appli 
cablo  in  such  a  degree,  as  to  imply  foresight :  not  whether 
they  are  capable  of  any  other  application  ;  though  1  know  no 
pretence  for  saying,  the  general  turn  of  them  is  capable  of  any 
other. 

These  observations  are,  I  think,  just,  and  the  evidence  re^ 
ferred  to  in  them,  real;  though  there  may  be  people  who  wili 
not  accept  of  such  imperfect  information  from  Scripture.  Scrr.c 
too  have  not  integrity  and  regard  enough  to  truth,  to  attend 
to  evidence,  which  keeps  the  mind  in  doubt,  perhaps  perplex- 
ity, and  which  is  much  of  a  different  sort  from  what  they  expec- 
ted. And  it  plainly  requires  a  degree  of  modesty  a  IK!  fauness. 
beyond  what  every  one  has,  for  a  man  to  say,  no'  to  the  world, 
^-  ..u  Himself,  that  there  is  a  real  appearance  of  somewhat  o! 
great,  weight  in  this  matter,  though  he  is  not  able  thoroughly 
to  satisfy  himself  about  it ;  but  it  shall  have  us  influence  upon 
him,  in  proportion  to  its  appearing  reality  and  weight.  It  is 
much  more  easy,  and  more  falls  in  with  the  negligence,  pie- 
sumption,  and  wilfulnes?  of  the  generality,  to  d.  termine  at 
npre..  with  a  decisive  air,  there  is  nothing  in  it.  The  preju- 
dices arising  from  that  absolute  contempt  and  scorn,  "nidi 
which  this  evidence  is  treated  in  the  world,  I  do  not  mention. 

*  It  appears,  that  Porphyry  did  no'li'msr  worth  mentioning  in  this  way. 
^•vr  Jero-ne  on  the  pi  ice  says  :  Duns  poslfriores  beslias — in  'ino  Marvh* 
iinnrtgno  ptmit.  And  as  to  the  ten  kin<^5:  Dscem  reges  enumernl,  ijw 
fueninl  stf.visnmi :  ipsosnne  re^cs  non  unm.i  ponit  rcgni,  verbi  gratia.  Mitce- 
ilmiice,  Syrict,  JUICE,  ft  Eyijpli ;  sed  de  diversis  re^nis  nnum  ejfiHl  rtgwn 
Cirdiuf.m.  And  in  this  way  of  interpretation,  any  thing  mny  be  made  of 
my  thing. 


CHAP.  VII.]  FOR    CHRISTIANITY,  227 

For  what  indeed  can  be  said  to  persons,  who  are  weak  enough 
m  their  understandings  to  think  this  any  presumption  against 
it ;  or,  if  they  do  not,  are  yet  weak  enough  in  their  temper 
to  be  influenced  by  such  prejudices,  upon  such  a  subject  > 

I  shah  row,  secondly,  endeavour  to  give  some  account  of 
the  general  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity,  consisting 
both  of  the  direct  and  circumstantial  evidence,  considered  as 
making  uo  one  argument.  Indeed,  to  state  and  examine  this 
argument  fuiiy,  would  be  a  work  much  beyond  the  compass 
of  this  whole  Treatise ;  nor  is  so  much  as  a  proper  abridg- 
ment of  a  to  oe  expected  here.  Yet  the  present  subject  re- 
quires to  have  some  brief  account  of  it  given.  For  it  is  the 
kind  of  evidence  upon  which  most  questions  of  difficulty,  in 
common  oractice,  are  determined ;  evidence  arising  from  va- 
rious coincidences,  which  support  and  conform  each  other,  and 
in  this  manner  prove,  with  more  or  less  certainty,  the  point 
under  consideration.'  And  I  choose  to  do  it  also,  first,  Be- 
cause  it  seems  to  oe  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  not  duly 
attended  to  by  every  one,  that  the  proof  of  revelation  is,  not 
some  direct  and  express  things  only,  but  a  great  variety  of 
circumstantial  taings  also ;  and  that  though  each  of  these 
direct  and  circumstantial  things  is  indeed  to  be  considered 
separately,  yet  tney  are  afterwards  to  be  joined  together ;  for 
that  the  orooer  force  of  the  evidence  consists  in  the  results  of 
those  several  things,  considered  in  their  respects  to  each 
other,  aua  united  into  one  view  ;  and,  in  the  next  place,  Be- 
cause  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  matters  of  fact  here  set  down, 
which  are  acknowledged  by  unbelievers,  must  be  acknow 
tedged  by  them  aiso  to  contain  together  a  degree  of  evidence 
of  great  weiarht,  if  they  could  be  brought  to  lay  these  several 
things  oelore  themselves  distinctly,  and  then  with  attention 
consider  them  together ;  instead  of  that  cursory  thought  of 
them,  to  wmcn  we  are  familiarized.  For  being  familiarized 
to  the  cursory  thought  of  things,  as  really  hinders  the  weight 
of  them  from  being  seen,  as  from  having  its  due  influence 
upon  practice. 

Ths  ttting  asserted,  and  the  truth  of  which  is  to  be  in 
quirsd  into,  is  this :  that  over  and  above  our  reason  and  affec 
tions,  which  God  has  given  us  for  the  information  of  our  judg- 
ment and  conduct  of  our  lives,  he  has  also,  by  external  reve- 
.ation,  given  us  an  account  of  himself  and  his  moral  govern- 
ment over  the  world,  implying  a  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments ;  t.  «.  hath  revealed  the  system  of  natural  reli- 
12 


228  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  i  PART  II, 

gion ;  for  natural  r-eligion  may  be  externally  revealed  liy 
God,  as  the  ignorant  may  be  taught  it  by  mankind,  their  iel 
'tow  creatures — that  God,  I  say,  has  given  us  the  evidence  oi 
revelation,  as  well  as  the  evidence  of  reason,  to  ascertain  this 
moral  system ;  together  with  an  account  of  a  particular  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  which  reason  could  no  way  have 
discovered,  and  a  particular  institution  of  religion  founded  on 
it,  for  the  recovery  of  mankind  out  of  their  present  wretched 
condition,  and  raising  them  to  the  perfection  and  final  happi- 
ness of  their  nature. 

This  revelation,  whether  real  or  supposed,  may  be  consid- 
ered as  wholly  historical.  For  prophecy  is  nothing  but  the 
history  of  events  before  they  come  to  pass :  doctrines  also  are 
matters  of  fact ;  and  precepts  come  under  the  same  notion. 
And  the  general  design  of  Scripture,  which  contains  in  it  this 
revelation,  thus  considered  as  historical,  may  be  said  to  be,  to 
give  us  an  account  of  the  world,  in  this  one  single  view,  as 
God's  world  :  by  which  it  appears  essentially  distinguished 
from  all  other  books,  so  far  as  I  hav^e  found,  except  such  aa 
are  copied  from  it.  It  begins  with  an  account  of  God's  crea- 
tion of  the  world,  in  order  to  ascertain  and  distinguish  from  all 
others,  who  is  the  object  of  our  worship,  by  what  he  has  done; 
in  order  to  ascertain  who  he  is,  concerning  whose  providence, 
commands,  promises,  and  threatenings,  this  sacred  book  all 
along  treats  ;  the  Maker  and  Proprietor  of  the  world,  he  whose 
creatures  we  are,  the  God  of  nature  :  in  order  likewise  to  dis- 
tinguish him  from  the  idols  of  the  nations,  which  are  either  im- 
aginary beings,  t.  e.  no  beings  at  all ;  or  else  part  of  that  crea- 
tion, the  historical  relation  of  which  is  here  given.  And  St 
John,  not  improbably  with  an  eye  to  this  Mosaic  account  oi 
the  creation,  begins  his  gospel  with  an  account  of  our  Sa- 
viour's pre-existence,  and  that,  '  all  things  were  made  by  him. 
and  without  him  was  not  any  thing  made  that  was  mad?  '/"f 
agreeably  to  the  doctrine  of  St  Paul,  that  '  God  created  all 
things  by  Jesus  Christ.'  J  This  being  premised,  the  Scripture, 
taken  together,  seems  to  profess  to  contain  a  kind  of  an  abridg- 
ment of  the  history  of  the  world,  in  the  view  just  now  men- 
tioned ;  that  is,  a  general  account  of  the  condition  of  religion 
and  its  professors,  during  the  continuance  of  that  apostasy 
from  God,  and  state  of  wickedness,  which  it  every  where 
supposes  the  world  to  lie  in.  And  this  account  of  the  state 
of  religion  carries  with  it  some  brief  acconnt  of  the  political 

t  John  i.  3.  I  Eph.  iil  6. 


CHAP.  VII.J  FOR   CHRISTIANITY.  229 

state  of  things,  .as  religion  is  affected  by  it.  Revelation  in- 
deed considers  the  common  affairs  of  this  w<  rid,  and  what  is 
going  on  in  it,  as  a  mere  scene  of  distraction ,  and  cannot  be 
eupposed  to  concern  itself  with  foretelling  at  what  time  Rome, 
or  Babylon,  or  Greece,  or  any  particular  place,  should  be  the 
most  conspicuous  seat  of  that  tyranny  and  dissoluteness, 
which  all  places  equally  aspire  to  be  ;  cannot,  I  say,  be  sup- 
posed to  give  any  account  of  this  wild  scene  for  its  own  sake. 
But  it  seems  to  contain  some  very  general  account  of  the 
chief  governments  of  the  world,  as  the  general  state  of  reli- 
gion has  been,  is,  or  shall  be,  affected  by  them,  from  the  first 
transgression  and  during  the  whole  interval  of  the  world's 
continuing  in  its  present  state,  to  a  certain  future  period, 
spoken  of  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  very  dis 
tinctly,  and  in  great  variety  of  expression :  '  The  times  of  the 
restit  ution  of  all  things  ;'*  when  '  the  mystery  of  God  shall 
be  finished,  as  he  hath  declared  to  his  servants  the  prophets  ;'| 
when  '  the  God  of  heaven  shall  set  up  a  kingdom,  which 
shall  never  be  destroyed  ;  and  the  kingdom  shall  not  be  left 
to  other  people,'J  as  it  is  represented  to  be  during  this  apos- 
tacy,  but  'judgment  shall  be  given  to  the  saints,'§  and  '  they 
shall  reign  ;'||  '  and  the  kingdom  and  dominion,  and  the  great- 
ness of  the  kingdom  under  the  whole  heaven,  shall  be  given 
to  the  people  of  the  saints  of  the  Most  High.'IF 

Upon  this  general  view  of  the  Scripture,  I  would  remark 
how  great  a  length  of  time  the  whole  relation  takes  up,  near 
six  thousand  years  of  which  are  past :  and  how  great  a  va- 
riety of  things  it  treats  of;  the  natural  and  moral  system  or 
history  of  the  world,  including  the  time  when  it  was  formed, 
all  contained  in  the  very  first  book,  and  evidently  written  in  a 
rude  and  unlearned  age  ;  and  in  subsequent  books,  the  vari- 
ous common  and  prophetic  history,  and  the  particular  dispen- 
sation of  Christianity.  Now  all  this  together  gives  the 
largest  scope  for  criticism  ;  and  for  confutation  of  what  is  ca- 
pa;lc  of  being  confuted,  either  from  reason,  or  from  common 
history,  or  from  any  inconsistence  in  its  several  parts.  And 
it  is  a  thing  which  deserves,  I  think,  to  be  mentioned,  that 
whereas  some  imagine,  the  supposed  doubtfulness  of  the  evi- 
dence for  revelation  implies  a  positive  argument  that  it  is  not 
Iruo :  it  appears,  on  the  contrary,  to  imply  a  posilh  e  argu- 
ment that  it  is  true.  For,  could  any  common  relation  of  such 


*  Acts  iii.  2 1 .  f  Rev.  x.  7.  J  Dan.  iu  §  Dan.  viL  Si 

D  Rev.  ri.  1 7, 13,  ch.  xx.  IT  Dan.  vii. 


230  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [  PART  7J. 

antiquity,  sxtent,  and  variety,  (for  in  these  things  the  stress 
of  what  I  am  now  observing  lies,)  be  proposed  to  the  examina- 
tion of  the  world  ;  that  it  could  not,  in  an  age  of  knowledge 
and  liberty,  be  confuted,  or  shown  to  have  nothing  in  it,  to  the 
satisfaction  of  reasonable  men ;  this  would  be  thought  a 
strong  presumptive  proof  of  its  truth.  And  indeed  it  must  be 
a  proof  of  it  just  in  proportion  to  the  probability,  that  if  it  were 
false,  it  might  be  shown  to  be  so ;  and  this,  I  think,  is  scarce 
pretended  to  be  shown  but  upon  principles  and  in  ways  of 
arguing  which  have  been  clearly  obviated.*  Nor  does  it  at 
all  appear,  that  any  sect  of  men  who  believe  natural  religion, 
are  of  the  opinion,  that  Christianity  has  been  thus  confuted. 
But  to  proceed : 

Together  with  the  moral  system  of  the  world,  the  Old  Tes- 
tament contains  a  chronological  account  of  the  beginning  of 
it,  and  from  thence,  an  unbroken  genealogy  of  mankind  for 
many  ages  before  common  history  begins  ;  and  carried  on  as 
much  farther,  as  to  make  up  a  continued  thread  of  history  of 
the  length  of  between  three  and  four  thousand  years.  It  con- 
tains an  account  of  God's  making  a  covenant  with  a  particu- 
lar nation,  that  they  should  be  his  people,  and  he  would  be  their 
God,  in  a  peculiar  sense  ;  of  his  often  interposing  miraculously 
in  their  affairs  ;  giving  them  the  promise,  and,  long  after,  the 
possession,  of  a  particular  country ;  assuring  them  of  the 
greatest  national  prosperity  in  it,  if  they  would  worship  him, 
in  opposition  to  the  idols  which  the  rest  of  the  world  worship- 
ped, and  obey  his  commands  ;  and  threatening  them  with  un- 
exampled punishments,  if  they  disobeyed  him,  and  fell  into  the 
general  idolatry  :  insomuch,  that  this  one  nation  should  con 
tinue  to  be  the  observation  and  the  wonder  of  all  the  world. 
It  declares  particularly,  that  "  God  would  scatter  them  among 
all  people,  from  one  end  of  the  earth  unto  the  other ;"  but 
"  when  they  should  return  unto  the  Lord  their  God,  he  would 
have  compassion  upon  them,  and  gather  them,  from  all  the 
nations  whither  he  had  scattered  them  ;"  that  "Israel  should 
be  saved  in  the  Lord,  with  an  everlasting  salvation,  and  not  be 
ashamed  or  confounded,  world  without  end."  And  as  some 
of  these  promises  are  conditional,  others  are  as  absolute  a> 
any  thing  can  be  expressed,  that  the  time  should  come,  when 
"  the  people  should  be  all  righteous,  and  inherit  the  land  for 
ever :"  that  "  though  God  would  make  a  full  end  of  all  na- 
tions whither  he  had  scattered  them,  yet  would  he  not  roakc 

•Cliap.  2,3,  &c. 


CHAP.  MI.]  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  231 

a  full  end  of  them  :"  that  "  he  would  bring  again  the  captivity 
of  his  people  Israel,  and  plant  them  upon  their  land,  and  they 
Bhould  be  no  more  pulled  up  out  of  their  land  :"  that  "  the 
eeed  of  Israel  should  not  cease  from  being  a  nation  forever."* 
It  foretells,  that  God  would  raise  them  up  a  particular  person, 
in  whom  ah  his  promises  should  be  fulfilled ;  the  Messiah, 
who  should  be,  in  a  high  and  eminent  sense,  their  anointed 
Prince  and  Saviour.  This  was  foretold  in  such  a  manner,  as 
raised  a  general  expectation  of  such  a  person  in  the  nation,  as 
appears  from  the  New  Testament,  and  is  an  acknowledged 
fact ;  an  expectation  of  his  coming  at  such  a  particular  time, 
before  any  one  appeared,  claiming  to  be  that  person,  and 
where  there  was  no  ground  for  such  an  expectation  but  from 
the  prophecies  ;  which  expectation,  therefore,  must  in  all  rea- 
son be  presumed  to  be  explanatory  to  those  prophecies,  if 
there  were  any  doubt  about  their  meaning.  It  seems  more- 
over to  foretell,  that  this  person  should  be  rejected  by  that  na- 
tion, to  whom  he  had  been  so  long  promised,  and  though  he 
was  so  much  desired  by  them,  j"  And  it  expressly  foretells, 
that  he  should  be  the  Saviour  of  the  Gentiles  ;  and  even  that 
the  completion  of  the  scheme,  contained  in  this  book,  and 
then  begun,  and  in  its  progress,  should  be  somewhat  so  great, 
that,  in  comparison  with  it,  the  restoration  of  the  Jews  alone 
would  be  but  of  small  account.  '  It  is  a  light  thing  that  thou 
shouldest  be  my  servant  to  raise  up  the  tribes  of  Jacob,  and  to 
restore  the  preserved  of  Israel :  I  will  also  give  thee  for  a  light 
to  the  Gentiles,  that  thou  mayest  be  for  salvation  unto  the 
end  of  the  earth.'  And,  '  In  the  last  days,  the  mountain  of 
the  Lord's  house  shall  be  established  in  the  top  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  shall  be  exalted  above  the  hills  ;  and  all  nations 
shall  flow  into  it — for  out  of  Zion  shall  go  forth  the  law,  and 
the  word  of  the  Lord  from  Jerusalem.  And  he  shall  judge 
among  the  nations — and  the  Lord  alone  shall  be  exalted  in 
that  day,  and  the  idols  he  shall  utterly  abolish. 'J  The  Scrip- 
ture farther  contains  an  account,  that  at  the  time  the  Messiah 
was  expected,  a  person  rose  up,  in  this  nation,  claiming  to  be 
lhat  Messiah,  to  be  the  person  whom  all  the  prophecies 


*  Deut.  xxxiii.  64.  Ch.  xxx.  2,  3.  isa.  xlv.  17.  Oh.  Ix.  21.  Jer 
MX.  1 1.  Ch.  Ixvi.  28.  Amos  ix.  15.  Jer.  xxxi.  36. 

tlsa.viii.  14,  15.  Ch.  xiix.  S.Ch.liii.  Mal.i.  10,  ll.andCh.  iii. 

t  Isa.  xlix.  6.  Ch.  ii.  Ch.  xi.  Ch.  Ivi.  7.  Mai.  i.  11.  —To  which  must 
be  added,  the  othei  prophecies  of  the  like  kind,  several  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  very  many  in  the  Old,  which  describe  what  shall  be  the  com. 
pletior.  of  the  revealed  plan  of  Providence. 


23'2  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  II 

referred  to,  and  in  whom  they  should  centre  ;  that  ht  spen' 
some  years  in  a  continued  course  of  miraculous  works,  and 
endued  his  immediate  disciples  and  followers  with  a  power  of 
doing  the  same,  as  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  thai  religion  which 
he  commissioned  them  to  publish ;  that,  invested  with  this 
authority  and  power,  they  made  numerous  converts  in  the 
remotest  countries,  and  settled  and  established  his  religion  in 
the  world;  to  the  end  of  which,  the  Scripture  professes  to 
give  a  prophetic  account  of  the  state  of  this  religion  amongst 
mankind. 

Let  us  now  suppose  a  person  utterly  ignorant  of  history,  to 
have  all  this  related  to  him,  out  of  the  Scriptures.  Or,  sup- 
pose such  a  one,  having  the  Scriptures  put  into  his  bands,  tc 
remark  these  things  in  it,  not  knowing  but  that  the  whole. 
even  its  civil  historj7,  as  well  as  the  other  parts  of  it,  might 
be,  from  beginning  to  end,  an  entire  invention  j  and  to  ask, 
What  truth  was  in  it,  and  whether  the  revelation  here  related 
was  real  or  a  fiction  ?  And,  instead  of  a  direct  answer,  sup- 
pose him,  all  at  once,  to  be  told  the  following  confessed  facts  ; 
and  then  to  unite  them  into  one  view. 

Let  him  first  be  told,  in  how  great  a  degree  the  profession 
and  establishment  of  natural  religion,  the  belief  that  there  is 
one  God  to  be  worshipped,  that  virtue  is  his  law,  and  that 
mankind  shall  be  rewarded  and  punished  hereafter,  as  they 
obey  and  disobey  it  here  ;  in  how  very  great  a  degree,  I  say, 
the  profession  and  establishment  of  this  moral  system  in  the 
world,  is  owing  to  the  revelation,  whether  real  or  supposed, 
contained  in  this  book  ;  the  establishment  of  this  moral  sys- 
tem, even  in  those  countries  which  do  not  acknowledge  the 
proper  authority  of  the  Scripture.  Let  him  be  told  also, 
what  number  of  nations  do  acknowledge  its  proper  authority. 
Let  him  then  take  in  consideration,  of  what  importance  reli- 
gion is  to  mankind.  And  upon  these  things,  he  might,  I 
ihink,  truly  observe,  that  this  supposed  revelation's  obtaining 
and  being  received  in  the  world,  with  all  the  circumstances 
and  effects  of  it,  considered  together  as  one  event,  is  the  most 
conspicuous  and  important  event  in  the  story  of  mankind : 
that  a  book  of  this  nature,  and  thus  promulged  and  recom- 
mended to  our  consideration,  demands,  as  if  by  a  voice  from 
heaven,  1o  have  its  claims  most  seriously  examined  into  ;  and 
that ,  before  such  examination,  to  treat  it  with  any  kind  o/ 
scoffing  and  ridicule,  is  an  offence  against  natural  piety.  But 


CHAP.  VII.]  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  2d3 

ft  is  to  be  remembered,  that  how  much  soever  the  establish 
na=nt  of  natural  religion  in  the  world  is  owing  to  the  Scrip- 
ture revelation,  this  does  not  destroy  the  proof  of  religion  from 
reason,  any  more  than  the  proof  of  Euclid's  Elements  is  de- 
stroyed, by  a  man's  knowing  or  thinking  that  he  should 
never  have  seen  the  truth  of  the  several  propositions  contained 
in  .t,  nor  had  those  propositions  come  into  his  thoughts,  but 
£>.'  that  mathematician. 

Let  such  a  person  as  we  are  speaking  of,  be,  in  the  next 
place,  informed  of  the  acknowledged  antiquity  of  the  first 
parts  of  this  book  ;  and  that  its  chronology,  its  account  of  the 
time  when  the  earth,  and  the  several  parts  of  it,  were  firs* 
peopled  with  human  creatures,  is  no  way  contradicted,  but  is 
really  confirmed,  by  the  natural  and  civil  history  of  the 
world,  collected  from  common  historians,  from  the  state  of  the 
earth,  and  the  late  invention  of  arts  aad  sciences.  And,  as 
the  Scripture  contains  an  unbroken  thread  of  common  and 
civil  history,  from  the  creation  to  the  captivity,  for  between 
three  and  four  thousand  years ;  let  the  person  we  are  speak- 
ing of  be  told,  in  the  next  place,  that  this  general  history,  as 
it  is  not  contradicted,  but  is  confirmed  by  profane  history,  as 
much  as  there  would  be  reason  to  expect,  upon  supposition 
of  its  truth  ;  so  there  is  nothing  in  the  whole  history  itself,  to 
give  any  reasonable  ground  of  suspicion,  of  its  not  being,  in 
the  general,  a  faithful  and  literally  true  genealogy  of  men, 
and  series  of  things.  I  speak  here  only  of  the  common 
Scripture  history,  or  of  the  course  of  ordinary  events  related 
in  it,  as  distinguished  from  miracles,  and  from  the  prophetic 
history.  In  all  the  Scripture  narrations  of  this  kind,  following 
events  arise  out  of  foregoing  ones,  as  in  all  other  histories. 
There  appears  nothing  related  as  done  in  any  age,  not  con- 
formable to  the  manners  of  that  age  ;  nothing  in  the  account 
of  a  succeeding  age,  which,  one  would  say,  could  not  be  true, 
or  was  improbable,  from  the  account  of  things  in  the  preced- 
ing one.  There  is  nothing  in  the  characters,  which  would 
raise  a  thought  of  their  being  feigned ;  but  all  the  internal 
marks  imaginable  of  their  being  real.  It  is  to  be  added  also, 
thAt  mere  genealogies,  bare  narratives  of  the  number  of  years 
whrch  persons  called  by  such  and  such  names  lived,  do  not 
jarry  the  face  of  fiction ;  perhaps  do  carry  some  presumption 
of  veracity  5  and*all  unadorned  narratives,  which  have  nothing 
to  surprise,  may  be  thought  to  carry  somewhat  of  the  like 
presumption  too.  And  the  dorrestic  and  the  political  history 
is  plainly  credible.  There  may  be  incidents  in  Scripture, 


234  OF    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  11 

which,  taken  alone  in  the  naked  way  they  are  tuld,  may  ap 
p«!ar  strange,  especially  to  persons  of  other  manners,  tem- 
per, 3ducation ;  but  there  are  also  incidents  of  undoubted 
truth,  in  many  or  most  persons'  lives,  which,  in  the  same  cir- 
cumstances, would  appear  to  the  full  as  stange.  There  may 
be  mistakes  of  transcribers,  there  may  be  other  real  or  seeming 
rrv'.stakes,  not  easy  to  be  particularly  accounted  for  j  but  there 
are  certainly  no  more  things  of  this  kind  in  the  Scripture, 
than  what  were  to  have  been  expected  in  books  of  such  an- 
tiquity ;  and  nothing,  in  any  wise,  sufficient  to  discredit  the 
general  narrative.  Now,  that  a  history,  claiming  to  com- 
.nence  from  the  creation,  and  extending  in  one  continued 
series,  through  so  great  a  length  of  time,  and  variety  of  events, 
should  have  such  appearances  of  reality  and  truth  in  its  whole 
contexture,  is  surely  a  very  remarkable  circumstance  in  its 
favor.  And  as  all  this  is  applicable  to  the  common  history 
of  the  New  Testament,  so  there  is  a  farther  credibility,  and 
a  very  high  one,  given  to  it  by  profane  authors  ;  many  of 
these  writing  of  the  same  times,  and  confirming  the  truth  ol 
customs  and  events,  which  are  incidentally,  as  well  as  more 
purposely  mentioned  in  it.  And  this  credibility  of  the  com- 
mon  Scripture  history,  gives  some  credibility  to  its  miracu- 
lous history ;  especially  as  this  is  inierwoven  with  the  com- 
mon, so  as  that  they  imply  each  other,  and  both  together 
make  xip  one  relation. 

Ijet  it  then  be  more  particularly  observed  to  this  person,  that 
it  is  an  acknowledged  matter  of  fact,  which  is  indeed  implied 
in  the  foregoing  observation,  that  there  was  such  a  nation  as 
the  Jews,  of  the  greatest  antiquity,  whose  government  and 
general  poHty  was  founded  on  the  law,  here  related  to  be 
given  them  by  Moses  as  from  Heaven  :  that  natural  religion, 
though  with  rites  additional,  yet  no  way  contrary  to  it,  was 
their  established  religion,  which  cannot  be  said  of  the  Geniiie 
world  ;  and  that  their  very  being,  as  a  nation,  depended  upon 
their  acknowledgment  of  one  God,  the  God  of  the  universe. 
For  suppose,  in  their  captivity  in  Babylon,  they  had  gone  ovei 
to  the  religion  of  their  conquerors,  there  would  have  remained 
no  bond  of  union,  to  keep  them  a  distinct  people.  And  \vhiist 
they  were  under  their  own  kings,  in  their  own  country,  a  to- 
tal apostacv  from  God  would  have  been  the  dissolution  of  theii 
whole  government.  They  in  such  a  sense  nationally  acknow- 
ledged and  worshipped  the  Maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  when 
the  rest  of  the  world  were  sunk  in  idolatry,  as  rendered  them, 
Ui  fact,  the  peculiar  people  of  God.  And  this  so  remarkable 


CHAP.  VII.]  FOR   CHRISTIANITY.  235 

an  establishment  and  preservation  of  natural  religion  amongst 
them,  seems  to  add  some  peculiar  credibility  to  the  historical 
evidence  for  the  miracles  of  Moses  and  the  prophets  ;  because 
these  miracles  are  a  full  satisfactory  account  of  this  event, 
•which  plainly  wants  to  be  accounted  for,  and  cannot  other- 
wise. 

Let  this  person,  supposed  wholly  ignorant  of  history,  be 
acquainted  farther,  that  one  claiming  to  be  the  Messiah,  of 
Jewish  extraction,  rose  up  at  the  time  when  this  nation,  from 
the  prophecies  above  mentioned,  expected  the  Messiah :  that 
he  was  rejected,  as  it  seemed  to  have  been  foretold  he  should, 
by  the  body  of  the  people  under  the  direction  of  their  rulers  . 
that  in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years  he  was  believed  on, 
and  acknowledged  as  the  promised  Messiah,  by  great  num- 
bers among  the  Gentiles,  agreeably  to  the  prophecies  of  Scrip 
ture,  yet  not  upon  the  evidence  of  prophecy,  but  of  miracles, 
of  which  miracles  we  also  have  strong  historical  evidence ; 
(by  which  I  mean  here  no  more  than  must  be  acknowledged 
by  unbelievers  ;  for  let  pious  frauds  and  follies  be  admitted  to 
weaken,  it  is  absurd  to  say  they  destroy,  our  evidence  of 
miracles  wrought  in  proof  of  Christianity  :)  that  this  religion 
approving  itself  to  the  reason  of  mankind,  and  carrying  its  own 
evidence  with  it,  so  far  as  reason  is  a  judge  of  its  system,  and 
being  no  way  contrary  to  reason  in  those  parts  of  it  which  re- 
quire to  be  believed  upon  the  mere  authority  of  its  Author  ; 
that  this  religion,  I  say,  gradually  spread  and  supported  itself, 
for  some  hundred  years,  not  only  without  any  assistance  from 
temporal  power, but  under  constant  discouragements, and  often 
the  bitterest  persecutions  from  it,  and  then  became  the  religion 
of  the  world ;  that,  in  the  mean  time,  the  Jewish  nation  and  go- 
vernment were  destroyed  in  a  very  remarkable  manner,  and  the 
people  carried  away  captive  and  dispersed  through  the  most 
distant  countries  ;  in  which  state  of  dispersion  they  have  re- 
mained fifteen  hundred  years  ;  and  that  they  remain  a  nume- 
rous people,  united  among  themselves,  and  distinguished  from 
!  he  rest  of  the  world,  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  Moses,  by 
the  profession  of  his  law,  and  every  where  looked  upon  in  a 
manner,  which  one  scarce  knows  how  distinctly  to  express, 
but  in  the  words  of  the  prophetic  account  of  it,  given  so  many 
ages  before  it  came  to  pass  :  'Thou  shalt  become  an  astonish- 
ment, a  proverb,  and  a  byword,  among  all  nations  whither  the 
Lord  shall  lead  thee.'J 

I  Deut. xxviii.  3*. 
12* 


230  OP    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  I! 

The  appearance  of  a  standing  miracle,  in  the  J-uws  remain- 
ing a  distinct  people  in  their  dispositions,  and  the  confirmation 
which  this  event  appears  to  give  to  the  truth  of  revelation, 
may  be  thought  to  be  answered,  by  their  religion  forbidding 
them  intermarriages  with  those  of  any  other,  and  prescribing 
them  a  great  many  peculiarities  in  their  food,  by  which  they 
are  debarred  from  the  means  of  incorporating  with  the  people 
in  whose  countries  they  live.  This  is  not,  I  think,  a  satisfac- 
tory account  of  that  which  it  pretends  to  account  for.  But 
what  does  it  pretend  to  account  for  ?  The  correspondence  be- 
tween this  event  and  the  prophecies  ;  or  the  coincidence  of 
both  with  a  long  dispensation  of  Providence,  of  a  peculiar  na- 
ture, towards  that  people  formerty  ?  No.  It  is  only  the  event 
itself  which  is  offered  to  be  thus  accounted  for ;  which  single 
event  taken  alone,  abstracted  from  *dl  such  correspondence 
and  coincidence,  perhaps  would  not  have  appeared  miracu- 
lous ;  but  that  correspondence  and  coincidence  may  be  so, 
though  the  event  itself  be  supposed  not.  Thus  the  concur- 
rence of  our  Saviour's  being  bom  at  Bethlehem,  with  a  long 
foregoing  series  of  prophecy  and  other  coincidences,  is  doubt- 
less miraculous,  the  series  of  prophecy,  and  other  coinci- 
dences, and  the  event,  being  admitted ;  though  the  event  itself 
his  birth  at  that  place,  appears  to  have  been  brought  about 
in  a  natural  way ;  of  which,  however,  no  one  can  be  certain 

And  as  several  of  these  events  seem,  in  some  degree,  ex- 
pressly, to  have  verified  the  prophetic  history  already;  so 
likewise  they  may  be  considered  farther,  as  having  a  peculiar 
aspect  towards  the  full  completion  of  it ;  as  affording  some 
presumption  that  the  whole  of  it  shall,  one  time  or  other,  be 
fulfilled.  Thus,  that  the  Jews  have  been  so  wonderfully  pre- 
served in  then-  long  and  wide  dispersion  ;  which  is  indeed  the 
direct  fulfilling  of  some  prophecies,  but  is  now  mentioned  only 
as  looking  forward  to  somewhat  yet  to  come :  that  natural 
religion  came  forth  from  Judea,  and  spread  in  the  degree  it 
has  done  over  the  world,  before  lost  in  idolatry ;  which,  to- 
gether with  some  other  tilings,  have  distinguished  that  very 
place,  in  like  manner  as  the  people  of  it  are  distinguished: 
that  this  great  change  of  religion  over  the  earth,  was  brought 
about  under  the  profession  and  acknowledgment,  that  Jesus 
was  the  promised  Messiah  :  things  of  this  irind  naturally  turn 
the  thoughts  of  serious  men  towards  the  full  cr  mpletion  o< 
the  prophetic  history,  concerning  the  final  -/estoration  of  tha. 
neople ;  concerning  the  establishment  of  the  everlasting  king 
«Jom  among  them,  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah ;  and  the 


.  VII.J  FOR   CHRISTIANITY.  237 

future  state  of  the  world,  under  this  sacred  government.  Such 
circumstances  and  events  compared  with  these  propher.iesr 
though  no  completions  of  them,  yet  would  not,  I  mink,  be 
spoken  of  as  nothing  in  the  argument,  by  a  person  upon  hu 
first  being  informed  of  them.  They  fall  in  with  the  prophetic 
history  of  things  still  future,  give  it  some  additional  credibility, 
have  the  appearance  of  being  somewhat  in  order  to  the  full 
completion  of  it. 

Indeed  it  requires  a  good  degree  of  knowledge,  and  great 
calmness  and  consideration,  to  be  able  to  judge,  thoroughly,  of 
the  evidence  for  the  truth  of  Christianity,  from  that  part  of 
the  prophetic  history  which  relates  to  the  situation  of  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  to  the  state  of  the  church,  from 
the  establishment  of  Christianity  to  the  present  time.  But  it 
appears  from  a  general  view  of  it,  to  be  very  material.  And 
those  persons  who  have  thoroughly  examined  it,  and  some  of 
them  were  men  of  the  coolest  tempers,  greatest  capacities, 
and  least  liable  to  imputations  of  prejudice,  insist  upon  it  as 
determinately  conclusive. 

Suppose  now  a  person  quite  ignorant  of  history,  first,  to  re- 
collect the  passages  above  mentioned  out  of  Scripture,  without 
knowing  but  that  the  whole  was  a  late  fiction,  then  to  be  in- 
formed of  the  correspondent  facts  now  mentioned,  and  to  unite 
them  all  into  one  view :  that  the  profession  and  establishment 
of  natural  religion  in  the  world,  is  greatly  owing,  in  different 
ways,  to  this  book,  and  the  supposed  revelation  which  it  con 
tains  ;  that  it  is  acknowledged  to  be  of  the  earliest  antiquity  v 
that  its  chronology  and  common  history  are  entirely  credible  , 
that  this  ancient  nation,  the  Jews,  of  whom  it  chiefly  treats 
appear  td  have  been,  in  fact,  the  people  of  God,  in  a  distin 
guished  sense ;  that  as  there  was  a  national  expectation 
amongst  them,  raised  from  the  prophecies,  of  a  Messiah  to 
appear  at  such  a  time,  so  one  at  this  time  appeared,  claiming 
to  be  that  Messiah ;  that  he  was  rejected  by  this  nation,  but 
received  by  the  Gentiles,  not  upon  the  evidence  of  prophecy 
but  of  miracles  ;  that  the  religion  he  taught  supported  itself 
under  the  greatest  difficulties,  gained  ground,  and  at  length 
became  the  religion  of  the  world  ;  that  in  the  mean  time  the 
Jewish  polity  was  utterly  destroyed,  and  the  nation  dispersed 
over  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  that  notwithstanding  this,  they 
have  remained  a  distinct  numerous  people  for  so  many  centu- 
ries, even  to  this  day ;  which  not  only  appears  to  be  the  ex- 
press completion  of  several  prophecies  concerning  them ;  but 
*Iso  renders  it,  as  one  may  speak,  a  visible  and  easy  poaai- 


238  OP    THE    PARTICULAR    EVIDENCE  [PART  II 

bility,  that  the  promises  made  to  them  as  a  nation,  may  ye{ 
be  fulfilled.  And  to  these  acknowledged  truths,  let  the  per- 
son we  have  been  supposing  add,  as  I  think  he  ought 
whether  every  one  will  allow  it  or  no,  the  obvious  appear- 
ances which  there  are,  of  the  state  of  the  world,  in  other  re- 
spects besides  what  relates  to  the  Jews,  and  of  the  Christian 
church,  having  so  long  answered,  and  still  answering  to  the 
prophetic  history.  Suppose,  I  say,  these  facts  set  ovei 
against  the  things  before  mentioned  out  of  the  Scripture,  and 
seriously  compared  with  them;  the  joint  view  of  both  to- 
gether, must,  I  think,  appear  of  very  great  weight  to  a  con- 
siderate reasonable  person :  of  much  greater,  indeed,  upon 
having  them  first  laid  before  him,  than  is  easy  for  us,  who 
are  so  familiarized  to  them,  to  conceive,  without  some  particu- 
lar attention  for  that  purpose. 

All  these  things,  and  the  several  particulars  contained  un- 
der them,  require  to  be  distinctly  and  most  thoroughly  ex- 
amined into ;  that  the  weight  of  each  may  be  judged  of,  upon 
such  examination,  and  such  conclusion  drawn  as  results  from 
their  united  force.  But  this  has  not  been  attempted  here.  1 
have  gone  no  farther  than  to  show,  that  the  general  imperfect 
view  of  them  now  given,  the  confessed  historical  evidence  for 
miracles,  and  the  many  obvious  appearing  completions  of 
prophecy,  together  with  the  collateral  things*  here  men- 
tioned, and  there  are  several  others  of  the  like  sort ;  that  all 
this  together,  which,  being  fact,  must  be  acknowledged  by 
unbelievers,  amounts  to  real  evidence  of  somewhat  more  than 
human  in  this  matter :  evidence  much  more  important,  than 
careless  men,  who  have  been  accustomed  only  to  transient 
find  partial  views  Of  it,  can  imagine  ;  and  indeed  abundantly 
sufficient  to  act  upon.  And  these  things,  I  apprehend,  must 
be  acknowledged  by  unbelievers.  For  though  they  may  say, 
that  the  historical  evidence  of  miracles,  wrought  in  attesta- 
tion of  Christianity,  is  not  sufficient  to  convince  them  that 
such  miracles  were  really  wrought ;  they  cannot  deny,  that 
there  is  such  historical  evidence,  it  being  a  known  matter  of 
fact  that  there  is.  They  may  say,  the  conformity  between 
the  prophecies  and  events,  is  by  accident ;  but  there  are  many 
instances  in  which  such  conformity  itself  cannot  be  denied. 
They  may  say,  with  regard  to  such  kind  of  collateral  things 
as  those  above  mentioned,  that  any  odd  accidental  events, 

*  All  the  particular  things  mentioned  in  this  chapter,  not  reducible  to 
the  head  of  certain  miracles,  or  determinate  ccmpletions  of  prophecy 


CHAP.  VII.]  FOR    CHRISTIANITY.  230 

without  meaning,  will  have  a  meaning  found  in  them  by  fan- 
ciful people  ;  and  that  such  as  are  fanciful  in  an3r  one  certain 
way,  -will  make  out  a  thousand  coincidents,  which  seem  to 
favor  their  peculiar  follies.  Men,  1  say,  may  talk  thus  ;  but 
OG  one  who  is  serious,  can  possibly  think  these  things  to  be 
notliing,  if  he  considers  the  importance  of  collateral  things, 
and  even  of  lesser  circumstances,  in  the  evidence  of  proba- 
tility,  as  distinguished,  in  nature,  from  the  evidence  of  demon- 
stration. In  many  cases,  indeed,  it  seems  to  require  the 
truest  judgment,  to  determine  with  exactness  the  weight  of 
circumstantial  evidence ;  but  it  is  very  often  altogether  as 
convincing,  as  that  which  is  the  most  express  and  direct. 

This  general  view  of  the  evidence  for  Christianity,  con- 
sidered as  making  one  argument,  may  also  serve  to  recom- 
mend to  serious  persons,  to  set  down  every  thing  which  they 
think  may  be  of  any  real  weight  at  all  in  proof  of  it,  and  par- 
ticularly the  many  seeming  completions  of  prophecy ;  and 
they  will  find,  that,  judging  by  the  natural  rules,  by  which 
we  judge  of  probable  evidence  in  common  matters,  they 
amount  to  a  much  higher  degree  of  proof,  upon  such  a  joint 
review,  than  could  be  supposed  upon  considering  them  sepa 
rately,  at  different  times ;  how  strong  soever  the  proof  might 
before  appear  to  them,  upon  such  separate  views  of  it.  For 
probable  proofs,  by  being  added,  not  only  increase  the  evi- 
dence, but  multiply  it.  Nor  should  I  dissuade  any  one  from 
setting  down  what  he  thought  made  for  the  contrary  side. 
But  then  it  is  to  be  remembered,  not  in  order  to  influence  his 
judgment,  but  his  practice,  that  a  mistake  on  one  side,  may 
be,  in  its  consequences,  much  more  dangerous  than  a  mistake 
on  the  other.  And  what  course  is  most  safe,  and  what  most 
dangerous,  is  a  consideration  thought  very  material,  when  we 
deliberate,  not  concerning  events,  but  concerning  conduct  in 
our  temporal  affairs.  To  be  influenced  by  this  consideration 
in  our  judgment,  to  believe  or  disbelieve  upon  it,  is  indeed  as 
much  prejudice,  as  any  thihg  whatever.  And,  like  other 
prejudices,  it  operates  contrary  ways  in  different  men.  For 
sov.s  ire  inclined  to  believe  what  they  hope  ;  and  others, 
wnai  they  fear.  And  it  is  manifest  unreasonableness,  to 
apply  to  men's  passions  in  order  to  gain  their  assent.  But 
in  deliberations  concerning  conduct,  there  is  nothing  which 
reason  more  requires  to  be  taken  into  the  acco  ant,  than  the 
importance  of  it.  For,  suppose  it  doubtful,  what  would  be 
the  consequence  of  acting  in  this,  or  in  a  contra^  manner ; 
rtill,  that  taking  one  side  could  be  attended  with  little  or  no 


240  OF    THE    PARTICULAR   ETIDENCE,    &C.    [PART  II 

bad  consequence,  and  taking  the  other  might  be  attended 
with  the  greatest,  must  appear,  to  unprejudiced  reason,  of  the 
highest  moment  towards  determining  how  we  are  to  act.  But 
the  truth  of  our  religion,  like  the  truth  of  common  matters,  is 
to  be  judged  of  by  all  the  evidence  taken  together.  And  unless 
'he  whole  series  of  things  which  may  be  alleged  in  this  argu- 
ment, and  every  particular  thing  in  it,  can  reasonably  be  sup- 
posed to  have  been  by  accident,  (for  here  the  stress  of  the  argu- 
ment for  Christianity  lies,)  then  is  the  truth  of  it  proved  :  in  like 
manner  as  if,  in  iny  common  case,  numerous  events  acknow- 
ledged, were  to  be  alleged  in  proof  of  any  other  event  dis- 
puted ;  the  proof  of  the  disputed  event  would  be  proved,  not 
only  if  any  one  of  the  acknowledged  ones  did  of  itself  clearly 
imply  it,  but,  though  no  one  of  them  singly  did  so,  if  the 
whole  of  the  acknowledged  events  taken  together,  could  not 
in  reason  be  supposed  to  have  happened,  unless  the  disputed 
one  were  true. 

It  is  obvious,  how  much  advantage  the  nature  of  this  evi- 
dence gives  to  those  persons  who  attack  Christianity,  espe- 
cially in  conversation.  For  it  is  easy  to  show,  in  a  short  and 
lively  manner,  that  such  and  such  things  are  liable  to  objec- 
tion, that  this  and  another  thing  is  of  little  weight  in  itself ; 
but  impossible  to  show,  in  like  manner,  the  united  force  of 
the  whole  argument  in  one  view. 

However,  lastly,  as  it  has  been  made  appear,  that  there  is 
no  presumption  against  a  revelation  as  miraculous  ;  that  the 
general  scheme  of  Christianity,  and  the  principal  parts  of  it, 
are  conformable  to  the  experienced  constitution  of  things,  and 
the  whole  perfectly  credible  ;  so  the  account  now  given  of  the 
pceitive  evidence  for  it,  shows,  that  this  evidence  is  such,  as, 
from  the  nature  of  it.  cannot  be  destroyed,  though  it  should 
ce  lessened. 


BHAP    VIII.]  OBJECTIONS  AGAINST  THE  ANALOGY.  &C.         241 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


3fthe  Objections  ivhichmay  be  made  against  arguing  from 
the  Analogy  of  Nature  to  Religion. 

IF  every  one  would  consider,  with  such  attention  as  they 
are  bound,  even  in  point  of  moralit}',  to  consider,  what  they 
judge  and  give  characters  of,  the  occasion  of  this  chapter 
would  be,  in  some  good  measure  at  least,  superseded.  But 
since  this  is  not  to  expected ;  for  some  we  find  do  not  conceri? 
themselves  to  understand  even  what  they  write  against . 
since  this  treatise,  in  common  with  most  others,  lies  open  to 
abjections,  which  may  appear  very  material  to  thoughtful  men 
at  first  sight ;  and,  besides  that,  seems  peculiarly  liable  to  the 
objections  of  such  as  can  judge  without  thinking,  and  of  such 
as  can  censure  without  judging  ;  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  set 
down  the  chief  of  these  objections  which  occur  to  me,  and  con- 
sider them  to  their  hands.  And  they  are  such  as  these : — 

"  That  it  is  a  poor  thing  to  solve  difficulties  in  I'evelation,  by 
saying,  that  there  are  the  same  in  natural  religion;  when  what 
is  wanting  is  to  clear  both  of  them,  of  these  their  common,  as 
well  as  other  their  respective,  difficulties:  but  that  it  is  a 
strange  way  indeed  of  convincing  men  of  the  obligations  of  re- 
gion, to  show  them  that  they  have  as  little  reason  for  their 
worldly  pursuits  ;  and  a  strange  way  of  vindicating  the  justice 
and  goodness  of  the  Author  of  nature,  and  of  removing  the  ob- 
^sctions  against  both,  to  which  the  system  of  religion  lies  open, 
to  show,  that  the  like  objections  lie  against  natural  providence; 
a  way  of  answering  objections  against  religion,  without  so 
much  as  pretending  to  make  out,  that  the  system,  of  it,  or  the 
particular  things  in  it  objected  against,  are  reasonable — espe- 
cially, perhaps,  some  may  be  ini\ttentive  enough  to  add,  must 
Jlis  be  thought  strange,  when  it  is  confessed  that  analogy  is 
no  answer  to  such  obiections :  that  when  this  sort  of  reascn- 
11 


242  OBJECTIONS   AGAINST    THE   ANALOGY        [PART  H. 

ing  is  carried  to  the  utmost  length  it  can  be  imagined  capable 
of,  it  will  yet  leave  the  mind  in  a  very  unsatisfied  state;  and 
that  it  must  be  unaccountable  ignorance  of  mankind,  to  ima- 
gine they  will  be  prevailed  with  to  forego  their  present  inter- 
ests and  pleasures,  from  regard  to  religion,  upon  doubtful  evi- 
ience." 

Now,  as  plausible  as  this  way  of  talking  may  appear,  that 
ippearance  will  be  found  in  a  great  measure  owing  to  half- 
views,  which  show  but  part  of  an  object,  yet  show  that  indis- 
tinctly ;  and  to  undeterminate  language.  By  these  means 
weak  men  are  often  deceived  by  others,  and  ludicrous  men  by 
themselves.  And  even  those  who  are  serious  and  considerate 
cannot  always  readily  disentangle,  and  at  once  clearly  see 
through  the  perplexities  in  which  subjects  themselves  are  in- 
volved ;  and  which  are  heightened  by  the  deficiencies  and  the 
abuse  of  words.  To  this  latter  sort  of  persons,  the  following 
reply  to  each  part  of  this  objection  severally,  may  be  of  some 
Assistance  ;  as  it  may  also  tend  a  little  to  stop  and  silence 
others. 

First,  The  thing  wanted,  i.  e.  what  men  require,  is  to  have 
all  difficulties  cleared.  And  this  is,  or,  at  least  for  any  thing  we 
know  to  the  contrary,  it  may  be,  the  same,  as  requiring  to  com- 
prehend the  divine  nature,  and  the  whole  plan  of  Providence 
from  everlasting.  But  it  hath  always  been  allowed  to  argue 
from  what  is  acknowledged  to  what  is  disputed.  And  it  is  in 
no  other  sense  a  poor  thing,  to  argue  from  natural  religion  to  re- 
vealed, in  the  manner  found  fault  with,  than  it  is  to  argue  in 
numberless  other  ways  of  probable  deduction  and  inference, 
in  matters  of  conduct,  which  we  are  continually  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  doing.  Indeed  the  epithet  poor  may  be  applied, 
I  fear,  as  properly  to  great  part,  or  the  whole,  of  human  life,  as 
it  is  to  the  things  mentioned  in  the  objection.  Is  it  not  a  poor 
thing,  for  a  physician  to  have  so  little  knowledge  in  the  cure  of 
diseases,  as  even  the  most  eminent  have  1  To  act  upon  con- 
jecture and  guess,  where  the  life  of  man  is  concerned  ?  Un- 
doubtedly it  is:  but  not  in  comparison  of  having  no  skill  ai 
all  in  that  useful  art,  and  being  obliged  to  act  wholly  in  the 
dark. 

Further :  Since  it  is  as  unreasonable  as  it  is  common,  to 
urge  objections  against  revelation,  which  are  of  equal  weight 
against  natural  religion  ;  and  those  who  do  this,  if  they  are  not 
confuted  themselves,  deal  unfairly  with  others,  in  making  it 
Reem  that  they  are  arguing  only  against  revelation,  or  particu- 
lar doctrines  of  it,  when  in  reality  they  are  arguing  against 


JHAF.  VIII.]  OF    NATURE    TO    RELIGION.  243 

moral  providence  ;  it  is  a  thing  of  consequence  to  show,  that 
such  objections  are  as  much  levelled  against  natui  al  religion, 
•is  against  revealed.  And  objections,  which  are  equally  up 
plicablc  tc  both,  are,  properly  speaking,  answered,  by  its 
being  shown  that  they  are  so,  provided  the  former  be  admitted 
to  be  true.  And  without  taking  in  the  consideration  how 
distinctly  this  is  admitted,  it  is  plainly  very  material  to  ob- 
serve, that  as  the  things  objected  against  in  natural  religion, 
are  of  the  same  kind  with  what  is  certain  matter  of  experi- 
ence in  the  course  of  providence,  and  in  the  information  whicr 
Goci  affords  us  concerning  our  temporal  interest  under  his  go- 
vernment ;  so  the  objections  against  the  system  of  Christi- 
anity and  the  evidence  of  it,  are  of  the  very  same  kind  with 
those  which  are  made  against  the  system  and  evidence  of 
natural  religion.  However,  the  reader  upon  review  may  see, 
that  most  of  the  analogies  insisted  upon,  even  in  the  latter 
part  of  this  treatise,  do  not  necessarily  require  to  have  more 
taken  for  granted  than  is  in  the  former ;  that  there  is  an  Au- 
thor of  nature,  or  natural  Governor  of  the  world  ;  and  Chris- 
tianity is  vindicated,  not  from  its  analogy  to  natural  religion, 
but  chiefly,  from  its  analogy  to  the  experienced  constitution 
of  nature. 

Secondly,  Religion  is  a  practical  thing,  and  consists  in  such 
a  determinate  course  of  hfe  ;  as  being  what,  there  is  reason 
to  think,  is  commanded  by  the  Author  of  nature,  and  will, 
upon  the  whole,  be  our  happiness  under  his  government. 
Now  if  men  can  be  convinced  that  they  have  the  like  reason 
to  believe  this,  as  to  believe  that  taking  care  of  their  temporal 
affairs  will  be  to  their  advantage ;  such  conviction  cannot 
but  be  an  argument  to  ihem  for  the  practice  of  religion.  And 
if  there  be  really  any  reason  for  believing  one  of  these,  and 
endeavouring  to  preserve  life,  and  secure  ourselves  the  neces- 
saries and  conveniences  of  it ;  then  there  is  reason  also  for 
believing  the  ither,  and  endeavouring  to  secure  the  interest  it 
proposes  to  us.  And  if  the  interest  which  religion  proposes 
to  us  be  infinitely  greater  than  our  whole  temporal  interest, 
then  there  must  be  proporlionably  greater  reason  for  endea- 
vouring to  secure  one,  than  the  other :  since  by  the  supposi- 
iion,  the  probability  of  our  securing  one,  i?  equal  to  the  pro- 
bability of  our  securing  the  other.  This  s<;ems  plainly  unan- 
swerable ;  and  has  a  tendency  to  influence  fair  minds,  who 
consider  what  our  condition  really  is,  or  upon  what  evidence 
we  are  naturally  appointed  to  act ;  and  who  are  disposed  to 
acquiesce  in  the  terms  upon  which  we  live,  and  attend  to  and 


244  OBJECTIONS    AGAINST    THE    ANALOGY        [PART  11 

follow  that  practical  instruction,  whatever  it  be,  which  is 
afforded  us. 

But  the  chief  and  proper  force  of  the  argument  referred  to 
in  the  objection,  lies  in  another  place.  For  it  is  said,  that  the 
proof  of  religion  is  involved  in  such  inextricable  difficulties,  as 
to  render  it  doubtful;  and  tha',  it  cannot  be  supposed,  that  if 
it  were  true,  it  would  be  left  upon  doubtful  evidence.  Here, 
then,  o.ver  and  above  the  force  of  each  particular  difficulty  or 
objection,  these  difficulties  and  objections,  taken  together,  art 
turned  into  a  positive  argument  against  the  truth  of  religion , 
which  argument  would  stand  thus.  If  religion  were  true,  M 
would  not  be  left  doubtful,  and  open  to  objections  to  the  de- 
gree in  which  it  is ;  therefore,  that  it  is  thus  left,  not  only  ren- 
ders the  evidence  of  it  weak,  and  lessens  its  force,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  weight  of  such  objections  ;  but  also  shows  it  to  be 
false,  or  is  a  general  presumption  of  its  being  so.  Now  the 
observation,  that  from  the  natural  constitution  and  course  of 
things,  we  must  in  our  temporal  concerns,  almost  continually, 
and  in  matters  of  great  consequence,  act  upon  evidence  of  a 
tike  kind  and  degree  to  the  evidence  of  religion,  is  an  answer 
to  this  argument ;  because  it  shows,  that  it  is  according  to 
the  conduct  and  character  of  the  Author  of  nature  to  appoint 
we  should  act  upon  evidence  like  to  that,  which  this  argu- 
ment presumes  he  cannot  be  supposed  to  appoint  we  should 
act  upon :  it  is  an  instance,  a  general  one  made  up  of  nu- 
merous particular  ones,  of  somewhat  in  his  dealing  with  us, 
similar  to  what  is  said  to  be  incredible.  And  as  the  force  of 
this  answer  lies  merely  in  the  parallel  which  there  is  between 
the  evidence  for  religion  and  for  our  temporal  conduct ;  the 
answer  is  equally  just  and  conclusive,  whether  the  parallel  be 
made  out,  by  showing  the  evidence  of  the  former  to  be  higher. 
or  the  evidence  of  the  latter  to  be  lower. 

Thirdly,  The  design  of  this  treatise  is  not  to  vindicate  the 
character  of  God,  but  to  show  the  obligations  of  men ;  it  is 
not  to  justify  his  providence,  but  to  show  what  belongs  to  us 
to  do.  These  are  two  subjects,  and  ought  not  to  be  con- 
founded. And  though  they  may  at  length  run  up  into  each 
other,  yet  observations  may  immediately  tend  to  make  out 
the  latter,  which  do  not  appear,  by  any  immediate  connexion, 
t.o  the  purpose  of  the  former  :  which  is  less  our  concern  than 
many  seem  to  think.  For,  Is/,  It  is  not  necessary  we  should 
justify  the  dispensations  of  Providence  against  objections,  any 
farther  than  to  show,  that  the  things  objected  against  may 
(or  aught  we  know,  be  consistent  with  justice  and  goodness 


CHAP.  VIII.]  OF    NATURE    TO    RELIGIO!?.  245 

Suppose,  then,  that  there  are  things  in  the  system  of  this 
world,  and  plan  of  Providence  relating  to  it,  which  taken  ulone 
would  be  unjust ,  yet  it  has  been  shown  unanswerably,  that 
if  we  could  take  in  the  reference  which  these  things  may 
have  to  other  things  present,  past,  and  to  come  ;  to  the  whole 
scheme,  which  the  things  objected  against  art  parts  of;  these 
very  things  might,  for  aught  we  know,  be  found  to  be,  no", 
only  consistent  with  justice,  but  instances  of  it.  Indeed  it  has 
been  shown,  by  the  analogy  of  what  we  see,  not  only  possi- 
ble that  this  may  be  the  case,  but  credible  that  it  is.  And 
ihus  objections,  drawn  from  such  things,  are  answered,  and 
Providence  is  vindicated,  as  far  as  religion  makes  its  vindica- 
tion necessary.  Hence  it  appears,  2dly}  That  objections 
against  the  divine  justness  and  goodness  are  not  endeavoured 
to  be  removed,  by  showing  that  the  like  objections,  allowed 
to  be  realty  conclusive,  lie  against  natural  providence :  but 
those  objections  being  supposed  and  shown  not  to  be  conclu- 
sive, the  things  objected  against,  considered  as  matters  of 
fact,  are  farther  shown  to  be  credible,  from  their  conformity  to 
the  constitution  of  nature  ;  for  instance,  that  God  will  reward 
and  punish  men  for  their  actions  hereafter,  from  the  observa- 
tion that  he  does  reward  and  punish  them  for  their  actions 
here.  And  this,  I  apprehend,  is  of  weight.  And  I  add,  3dly, 
h  would  be  of  weight,  even  though  those  objections  were  not 
answered.  For,  there  being  the  proof  of  religion  above  set 
down,  and  religion  implying  several  facts  ;  for  instance,  again, 
the  fact  last  mentioned,  that  God  will  reward  and  punish  men 
for  their  actions  hereafter ;  the  observation  that  his  present 
method  of  government  is  by  rewards  and  punishments,  shows 
that  future  fact  not  to  be  incredible  ;  whatever  objections  men 
may  think  they  have  against  it,  as  unjust  or  unmerciful,  ac- 
cording to  their  notions  of  justice  and  mercy ;  or  as  improba- 
ble from  their  belief  of  necessity.  I  say,  as  improbable  ;  for 
it  is  evident  no  objection  against  it,  as  unjust,  can  be  urged 
from  necessity  ;  since  this  notion  as  much  destroys  injustice, 
as  it  does  justice.  Then,  4</i/y,  Thougn  objections  against 
the  reasonableness  of  the  sj'stem  of  religion,  cannot  indeed  be 
amwered  without  entering  into  a  consideration  of  its  reasona- 
bleness, ye*  objections  against  the  credibility  or  truth  of  it 
may.  Because  the  system  of  it  is  reducible  into  what  is  pro- 
perly matter  of  fact;  and  the  truth,  the  probable  truth,  of  facts, 
may  be  shown  without  consideration  of  their  reasonableness 
Nor  is  it  necessary,  though,  in  some  cases  and  respects,  it  is 
Highly  useful  and  proper,  yet  it  is  not  necessary,  to  give  a  proof 


246  OBJECTIONS    AGAINST    THE    ANALOGY      [PART  It 

of  the  reasonableness  of  every  precept  enjoined  us,  and  of 
every  particular  dispensation  of  Providence,  which  comes  ir. to 
the  system  of  religion.  Indeed  the  more  thoroughly  a  person 
of  a  right  disposition  is  convinced  of  the  perfection  of  the  divine 
nature  and  conduct,  the  farther  he  will  advance  towards  that 
perfecd:a  of  religion,  which  St  John  speaks  of.*  But  the 
general  obligations  of  religion  are  fully  made  out,  by  proving 
The  reasonableness  of  the  practice  of  it.  And  that  the  prac- 
tice of  religion  is  reasonable,  may  be  shown,  though  no  more 
could  be  proved,  thai,  tha"  the  system  of  it  may  be  so,  foi 
aught  we  know  to  the  contrary ;  and  even  without  entering 
into  the  distinct  consideration  of  this.  And  from  hence,  5thlyt 
It  is  easy  to  see,  that  though  the  analogy  of  nature  is  not  ar- 
immediate  answer  to  objections  against  the  wisdom,  the  jus- 
tice, or  goodness,  of  any  doctrine  or  precept  of  religion  ;  yel 
U  may  be,  as  it  is,  an  immediate  and  direct  answer  to  what  is 
really  intended  by  such  objections  ;  which  is,  to  show  that 
the  things  objected  against  aie  incredible. 

Fourthly,  It  is  most  readily  acknowledged,  that  the  fore- 
going Treatise  is  by  no  means  satisfactory  ;  very  far  indeed 
from  it :  but  so  would  any  natural  institution  of  life  appear,  if 
reduced  into  a  system,  together  with  its  evidence.  Leav- 
ing religion  out  of  the  case,  men  are  divided  in  their  opinions, 
whether  our  pleasures  over-balance  our  pains ;  and  whethei 
it  be,  or  be  not,  eligible  to  live  in  this  world.  And  were  ali 
such  controversies  settled,  which,  perhaps,  in  speculation 
would  be  found  involved  in  great  difficulties  ;  and  were  it  de- 
termined, upon  the  evidence  of  reason,  as  nature  has  deter 
mined  it  to  our  hands,  that  life  is  to  be  preserved  ;  yet  stillj 
the  rules  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  afford  us,  for  escap 
ing  the  miseries  of  it,  and  obtaining  its  satisfactions,  the  rules, 
for  instance,  of  preserving  health  and  recovering  it  when  lost, 
are  not  only  fallible,  and  precarious,  but  very  far  from  being 
exact.  Nor  are  we  informed  by  nature,  in  future  contin- 
gencies and  accidents,  so  as  to  render  it  at  all  certain,  what  ia 
the  best  method  of  managing  our  affairs.  What  will  be  the 
success  of  our  temporal  pursuits,  in  the  common  sense  of  the 
word  success,  is  highly  doubtful.  And  what  will  be  the  suc- 
cess of  them,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  ;  i.  e.  what  hap- 
piness or  enjoyment  we  shall  obtain  by  them,  is  doubtful  in  a 
much  higher  degree.  Indeed,  the  unsatisfactory  nature  of 
\he  evidence,  with  which  we  are  obliged  to  take  up,  in  the 

*  1  John  iv.  18. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  OF    NATURE    TO    RELIGION.  247 

daily  course  of  life,  is  scarce  to  be  expressed.  Yet  men  do 
not  throw  away  life,  or  disregard  the  interests  of  it,  upon  ac- 
count of  this  doubtfulness.  The  evidence  of  religion  then 
being  admitted  real,  those  who  object  against  it,  as  not  satis- 
factory, i.  e.  as  not  being  what  they  wish  it,  plainly  forget 
the  very  condition  of  our  being  ;  for  satisfaction,  in  this  sense, 
does  not  belong  to  such  a  creature  as  man.  And,  which  is 
more  material,  they  forget  also  the  very  nature  of  religion. 
For,  religion  presupposes,  in  all  those  who  will  embrace  it,  a 
certain  degree  of  integrity  and  honesty ;  which  it  was  in- 
tended to  try  whether  men  have  or  not,  and  to  exercise  in 
euch  as  have  it,  in  order  to  its  improvement.  Religion  pre- 
supposes  this  as  much,  and  in  the  same  sense,  as  speaking  to 
a  man  presupposes  he  understands  the  language  in  which 
you  speak ;  or  as  warning  a  man  of  any  danger,  presupposes 
that  he  has  such  a  regard  to  himself,  as  that  he  will  endeavour 
to  avoid  it.  And  therefore  the  question  is  not  at  all,  Whether 
the  evidence  of  religion  be  satisfactory  ?  but,  Whether  it  be, 
in  reason,  sufficient  to  prove  and  discipline  that  virtue  which 
it  presupposes  ?  Now,  the  evidence  of  it  is  fully  sufficient  for 
all  those  purposes  of  probation ;  how  far  soever  it  is  from 
being  satisfactory,  as  to  the  purposes  of  curiosity,  or  any 
other :  and  indeed  it  answers  the  purposes  of  the  former  in 
several  respects,  which  it  would  not  do,  if  it  were  as  over- 
bearing as  is  required.  One  might  add  farther,  that  whether 
the  motives,  or  the  evidence  for  any  course  of  actions,  be  satis- 
factory, meaning  here  by  that  word,  what  satisfies  a  man, 
that  such  a  course  of  action  will  in  event  be  for  his  good  ; 
this  need  never  be,  and  I  tLink,  strictly  speaking,  never  is, 
the  practical  question  in  common  matters.  But  the  practical 
question  in  all  cases,  is,  Whether  the  evidence  for  a  course  of 
action  be  such,  as,  taking  in  all  circumstances,  makes  the 
faculty  within  us,  which  is  the  guide  and  judge  of  conduct,* 
determine  that  course  of  action  to  be  prudent?  Indeed,  satis- 
faction that  it  will  be  for  our  interest  or  happiness,  abundantly 
determines  an  action  to  be  prudent ;  but  evidence,  almost  in- 
finitely lower  than  this,  determines  actions  to  be  so  too,  even 
In  the  conduct  of  every  day- 

Fifthly,  As  to  the  objection  concerning  the  influence  which 
',his  argument,  or  any  part  of  it,  may,  or  may  not,  be  expected 
to  have  upon  men,  I  observe,  as  above,  that  religion  being  in- 
landed  for  a  I  rial  and  exercise  of  the  morality  of  every  person's 

*  See  Dissertation  2. 


248  OBJECTIONS    AGAINST    THE    ANALOGY       [PART  II 

character,  who  is  a  subject  of  it ;  and  there  being,  as  I  have 
shown,  such  evidence  for  it,  as  is  sufficient,  in  reason,  to  influ- 
ence men  to  embrace  it ;  to  object,  that  it  is  not  to  be  ima- 
gined mankind  will  be  influenced  by  such  evidence,  is  nothing 
to  the  purpose  of  the  foregoing  Treatise.  For  the  purpose  ol 
it  is  -not  to  inquire,  What  sort  of  creatures  mankind  are  ;  but. 
What  the  light  and  knowledge,  which  is  afforded  them,  re- 
quires they  should  be  ?  to  show  how,  in  reason,  they  ought 
to  behave ;  not  how,  in  fact,  they  will  behave.  This  de 
pends  upon  themselves,  and  is  their  own  concern  ;  the  per 
sonal  concern  of  each  man  in  particular.  And  how  little  re- 
gard the  generality  have  to  it,  experience,  indeed,  does  too 
fully  show.  But  religion,  considered  as  a  probation,  has  had 
its  end  upon  all  persons,  to  whom  it  has  been  proposed,  with 
evidence  sufficient  in  reason  to  influence  their  practice ;  foi 
by  this  means  they  have  been  put  into  a  state  of  probation  ; 
let  thorn  behave  as  they  will  in  it.  And  thus,  not  only  reve- 
lation, but  reason  also,  teaches  us,  that  by  the  evidence  of  re- 
ligion being  laid  before  men,  the  designs  of  Providence  are 
carrying  on,  not  only  with  regard  to  those  who  will,  but  like- 
wise with  regard  to  those  who  will  not,  be  influenced  by  it. 
However,  lastly,  the  objection  here  referred  to,  allows  the 
things  insisted  upon  in  this  Treatise  to  be  of  some  weight ; 
and  if  so,  it  mu  v  be  hoped  it  will  have  some  influence.  And 
if  there  be  a  probabilit}'  that  it  will  have  any  at  all,  there  is 
the  same  reason  in  kind,  though  not  in  degree,  to  lay  it  before 
men,  as  there  would  be,  if  it  were  likely  to  have  a  greatei  in- 
fluence. 

And  farther,  I  desire  it  may  be  considered,  with  respect  to  the 
whole  of  the  foregoing  objections,  that  in  this  Treatise  I  have 
argued  upon  the  principles  of  others,*  not  my  own ;  and  have 
omitted  what  I  think  true,  and  of  the  most  importance,  because 
by  others  thought  unintelligible,  or  not  true.  Thus  I  have 
argued  upon  the  principles  of  the  Fatalists,  which  I  do  not 
believe  ;  and  have  omitted  a  thing  of  the  utmost,  importance, 
which  I  do  believe,  the  moral  fitness  and  unfitness  of  actions, 
prior  to  all  will  whatever  ;  which  I  apprehend  as  certainly  to 
determine  the  divine  conduct,  as  speculative  truth  and  false- 
hood necessarily  determine  the  divine  judgment.  Indeed 

*  By  ttrginng  upon  the  principles  of  others,  the  reader  will  observe  it 
meant,  not  proving  any  thing /rom  those  principles,  but  notwithstanding 
them.  Thus  religion  is  proved,  not  from  the  opinion  of  necessity,  which 
is  absurd,  but  notwithstanding  or  even  though  that  opinion  were  admitted 
lobe  true. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  OF    NATURE    TO    RELIGION.  249 

the  principle  of  liberty,  and  that  of  moral  fitness,  so  force 
vhemselves  upon  the  mind,  that  moralists,  the  ai  .cients  as  well 
as  moderns, have  formed  their  language  upon  it.  And  probaUy 
it  may  .appear  in  mine,  though  I  have  endeavoured  to  avoid  it : 
and  in  order  to  avoid  it,  have  sometimes  been  obliged  to  ex- 
press myself  in  a  manner  which  will  appear  strange  to  such 
as  do  not  observe  the  reason  for  it ;  but  the  general  argument 
here  pursued  does  not  at  all  suppose,  or  proceed  upon,  these 
principles.  Now,  these  two  abstract  principles  of  liberty  and 
moral  fi'uess  being  omitted,  religion  can  be  considered  in  no 
other  view  than  merely  as  a  question  of  fact ;  and  in  this  view 
it  is  here  considered.  It  is  obvious,  that  Christianity,  and  the 
proof  of  it,  are  both  historical.  And  even  natural  religion  is, 
properly,  a  matter  of  fact.  For,  that  there  is  a  righteous 
Governor  of  the  world,  is  so ;  and  this  proposition  contains 
the  general  system  of  natural  religion.  But  then,  several  ab- 
stract truths,  and  in  particular  those  two  principles,  are 
usually  taken  into  consideration  in  the  proof  of  it ;  whereas  it 
is  here  treated  of  only  as  a  matter  of  fact.  To  explain  this  : 
that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  one*!, 
is  an  abstract  truth;  but  that  they  appear  so  to  our  mind,  is 
only  a  matter  of  fact.  And  this  last  must  have  b^en  ad 
mitted,  if  any  thing  was,  by  those  ancient  sceptics,  who  would 
not  have  admitted  the  former ;  but  pretend  to  doubt,  Whether 
there  were  an}'  such  thing  as  truth  ;  or,  Whether  we  could 
certainly  depend  upon  our  faculties  of  understanding  for  the 
knowledge  of  it  in  any  case.  So  likewise,  that  there  is,  in 
the  nature  of  things,  an  original  standard  of  right  and  wrong 
in  actions,  independent  upon  all  will,  but  which  unalterably 
determines  the  will  of  God,  to  exercise  that  moral  government 
over  the  world  which  religion  teaches,  *'.  e.  finally  and  upon 
the  whole  to  reward  and  punish  men  respectively  as  they  act 
right  or  wrong;  this  assertion  contains  an  abstract  truth,  as 
well  as  matter  of  fact.  But  suppose  in  the  present  state, 
every  man,  without  exception,  was  rewarded  and  punished, 
in  °xact  proportion  as  he  followed  or  transgressed  that  senso 
of  right  and  wrong,  which  God  has  implanted  in  the  nature 
;f every  man ;  this  would  not  be  at  all  an  abstract  truth,  but 
only  a  matter  of  fact.  And  though  this  fact  were  acknow- 
ledged by  every  one,  yet  the  very  same  difficulties  might  be 
raised,  as  are  now,  concerning  the  abstract  questions  of  liberty 
and  moral  fitness  :  and  we  should  have  a  proof,  even  the  cer- 
tain one  of  experience,  that  the  government  of  the  \vor)d  was 
uerfcctly  moral,  without  takinsr  in  the  consideration  of  those 
11* 


250  OBJECTIONS    AGAINST    THE    ANALOGY      [PAUT  It 

questions:  and  this  pi  oof  would  remain,  in  what  way  soever 
'-hey  were  determined.  And  thus,  God  having  given  man- 
kind a  moral  faculty,  the  object  of  which  is  actions,  und 
which  naturally  approves  some  actions  as  right  and  of  good 
desert,  and  condemns  others  as  wrong  and  of  ill  desert :  that 
he  will,  finally  and  upon  the  whole,  reward  the  former  and 
punish  the  latter,  is  not  an  assertion  of  an  abstract  truth,  but 
ot  what  is  as  mere  a  fact  as  his  doing  so  at  present  would  be. 
This  future  fact  I  have  not  indeed  proved  with  the  force  with 
whic'i  it  might  be  proved,  from  the  principles  of  liberty  and 
moral  fitness  ;  but  without  them  have  given  a  really  conclu- 
sive practical  proof  of  it,  which  is  greatly  strengthened  by  the 
general  analogy  of  nature  ;  a  proof  easily  cavilled  at,  easily 
shown  not  to  be  demonstrative,  for  it  is  not  offered  as  such , 
but  impossible,  I  think,  to  be  evaded  or  answered.  And  thus 
the  obligations  of  religion  are  made  out,  exclusively  of  the 
questions  concerning  liberty  and  moral  fitness  ;  which  havo 
been  perplexed  with  difficulties  and  abstruse  reasonings,  as 
every  thing  may. 

Hence,  therefore,  may  be  observed  distinctly,  what  is  the 
force  of  this  Treatise.  It  will  be,  to  such  as  are  convinced 
of  religion,  upon  the  proof  arising  out  of  the  two  last  men- 
tioned principles,  an  additional  proof  and  a  confirmation  of  it, 
to  such  as  do  not  admit  those  principles,  an  original  proof  of 
if,  and  a  confirmation  of  that  proof.  Those  who  believe 
will  here  find  the  scheme  of  Christianity  cleared  of  objections 
and  the  evidence  of  it  in  a  peculiar  manner  strengthened . 
tnose  who  do  not  believe,  will  at  least  be  shown  the  absurdity 
of  all  attempts  to  prove  Christianity  false,  the  plain  undoubted 
credibility  of  it,  and,  I  hope,  a  good  deal  more. 

And  thus,  though  some  perhaps  may  seriously  think,  thai 
analogy,  as  here  urged,  has  too  great  stress  laid  upon  it ;  uid 
ridicule,  unanswerable  ridicule,  may  be  applied,  to  show  the 
argument  from  it  in  a  disadvantageous  light :  yet  there  caa 
be  no  question,  but  that  it  is  a  real  one.  For  religion,  both 
natural  and  revealed,  implying  in  it  numerous  facts  ;  analogy 
being  a  confirmation  of  all  facts  to  which  it  can  be  applied, 
as  it  is  the  only  proof  of  most,  cannot  but  be  admitted  by 
every  one  to  be  a  material  thing,  and  truly  of  weight  on  the 
side  of  religion,  both  natural  and  revealed ;  and  it  ought  to 
DC  particularly  regarded  by  such  as  profess  to  follow  nature 
and  to  be  less  satisfied  with  abstract  reasonings. 


PJRT  II.  ?  CONCLUSION  251 


CONCLUSION. 


WHATEVER  account  may  be  given,  of  the  strange  inatten- 
tion and  disregard,  in  some  ages  and  countries,  to  a  matter  of 
such  importance  as  religion,  it  would,  before  experience,  be 
incredible,  that  there  should  be  the  like  disregard  in  those, 
who  have  had  the  moral  system  of  the  world  laid  before  them, 
as  it  is  by  Christianity,  and  often  inculcated  upon  them ;  be- 
cause this  moral  system  carries  in  it  a  good  degree  of  evi- 
dence for  its  truth,  upon  its  being  barely  proposed  to  our 
thoughts.  There  is  no  need  of  abstruse  reasonings  and  dis- 
tinctions, to  convince  an  unprejudiced  understanding,  that 
there  is  a  God  who  made  and  governs  the  world,  and  who 
will  judge  it  in  righteousness ;  though  they  may  be  necessary 
to  answer  abstruse  difficulties,  when  once  such  are  raised  ; 
when  the  very  meaning  of  those  words,  which  express  most 
intelligibly  the  general  doctrine  of  religion,  is  pretended  to  be 
uncertain,  and  the  clear  truth  of  the  thing  itself  is  obscured 
by  the  intricacies  of  speculation.  But,  to  an  unprejudiced 
\nind,  ten  thousand  thousand  instances  of  design,  cannot  but 
prove  a  Designer.  And  it  is  intuitively  manifest,  that  crea- 
tures ought  to  live  under  a  dutiful  sense  of  their  Maker ;  and 
that  justice  and  charity  must  be  his  laws,  to  creatures  whom 
lie  has  made  social,  and  placed  in  society.  Indeed,  the  truth 
of  revealed  religion,  peculiarly  so  called,  is  not  self-evident, 
but  requires  external  proof,  in  order  to  its  being  received. 
Yet  inattention,  among  us,  to  revealed  religion,  will  be  found 
to  imply  the  same  dissolute  immoral  temper  of  mind,  as  inat- 
tention to  natural  religion  ;  because,  when  both  are  laid  be- 
fore us,  in  the  manner  they  are  in  Christian  countries  of 
liberty,  our  obligations  to  inquire  into  both,  and  to  embrace 
both  upon  supposition  of  their  truth,  are  obligations  of  the 
same  nature.  For,  revelation  claims  to  be  the  voice  of  God  ; 
and  our  obligation  to  attend  to  his  voice,  is,  surely,  moral  in 
all  cases.  And  as  it  is  insisted,  that  its  evidence  is  conclu- 
sive, upon  thorough  consideration  of  it ;  BO  it  offers  itself  to  us 
13 


252  CONCLUSION.  [PART  u. 

with  manifest  obvious  appearances  of  naving  something  more 
than  human  in  it,  and  therefore  in  all  reason  requires  to  have 
its  claims  most  seriously  examined  into.  It  is  to  be  added, 
that  though  light  and  knowledge,  in  what  manner  soevei1 
afforded  us,  is  equally  from  God  ;  yet  a  miraculous  revelation 
has  a  peculiar  tendency,  from  the  first  principles  of  our  nature, 
to  awaken  mankind,  and  inspire  them  with  reverence  and 
p. we :  and  this  is  a  peculiar  obligation,  to  attend  to  what 
claims  to  be  so  with  such  appearances  of  truth.  It  is  therefore 
most  certain,  that  our  obligations  to  inquire  seriously  into  the 
evidence  of  Christianity,  and,  upon  supposition  of  its  truth,  to 
embrace  it,  are  of  the  utmost  importance,  and  moral  in  the 
highest  and  most  proper  sense.  Let  us  then  suppose,  that 
the  evidence  of  religion  in  general,  and  of  Christianity,  has 
been  seriously  inquired  into  by  all  reasonable  men  among  us. 
Yet  we  find  many  professedly  to  reject  both,  upon  specula- 
tive principles  of  infidelity.  And  all  of  them  do  not  content 
themselves  with  a  bare  neglect  of  religion,  and  enjoying 
their  imaginary  freedom  from  its  restraints.  Some  go  much 
bejond  this.  They  deride  God's  moral  government  over  the 
world :  they  renounce  his  protection,  and  defy  his  justice : 
they  ridicule  and  vilify  Christianity,  and  blaspheme  the  Au- 
thor of  it ;  and  take  all  occasions  to  manifest  a  scorn  and  con- 
tempt of  revelation.  This  amounts  to  an  active  setting  them- 
selves against  religion  ;  to  what  may  be  considered  as  a  posi- 
tive principle  of  irreligion  ;  which  they  cultivate  within  them- 
selves, and,  whether  they  intend  this  effect  or  not,  rendei 
habitual,  as  a  good  man  does  the  contrary  principle.  And 
others,  who  are  not  chargeable  with  all  this  profligateness, 
yet  are  in  avowed  opposition  to  religion,  as  if  discovered  to  be 
groundless.  Now  admitting,  which  is  the  supposition  we  go 
upon,  that  these  persons  act  upon  what  they  think  principle* 
of  reason,  and  otherwise  they  are  not  to  be  argued  with  ;  iv 
is  really  inconceivable,  that  they  should  imagine  they  clearly 
see  the  whole  evidence  of  it,  considered  in  itself,  to  be  nothing 
at  all ;  nor  do  they  pretend  this.  They  are  far  indeed  from 
having  a  just  notion  of  its  evidence ;  but  they  would  not  say 
its  evidence  was  nothing,  if  they  thought  the  system  of  it, 
with  all  its  circumstances,  were  credible,  like  other  matteis  of 
science  or  history.  So  that  their  manner  of  treating  it  must 
proceed,  either  from  such  kind  of  objections  against  ail  reli- 
gion, as  have  been  answered  or  obviated  in  the  former  part  of 
this  Treatise ;  or  else  from  objections  and  difficulties,  supposed 
tiore  peculiar  to  Christianity.  Thus,  they  enteitain  preju 


PART  II. J  CONCLUSION.  (53 

dices  against  the  whole  notion  of  a  revelation  and  mira  aloua 
interpositions.  They  find  things  in  Scripture,  whether  iflti  in 
cidental  passages  or  in  the  general  scheme  of  it,  which  ap 
pear  to  them  unreasonable.  They  take  for  granted,  that  if 
Christianity  were  true,  the  light  of  it  must  have  been  rtore 
general,  and  the  evidence  of  it  more  satisfactory,  or  rather 
overbearing  ;  that  it  must  and  would  have  been,  in  some  way, 
otherwise  put  and  left,  than  it  is.  Now,  this  is  not  imagining 
they  see  the  evidence  itself  to  be  nothing,  or  inconsiderable ; 
but  quite  another  thing.  It  is  being  fortified  against  the  evi- 
dence, in  some  degree  acknowledged,  by  thinking  they  see 
the  system  of  Christianity,  or  somewhat  which  appears  to 
.hem  necessarily  connected  with  it,  to  be  incredible  or  false  ; 
fortified  against  that  evidence,  which  might,  otherwise,  make 
great  impression  upon  them.  Or,  lastly,  if  any  of  these  per- 
sons are,  upon  the  whole,  in  doubt  concerning  the  truth  of 
Christianity,  their  behaviour  seems  owing  to  their  taking  for 
granted,  through  strange  inattention,  that  such  doubting  is,  in 
a  manner,  the  same  thing  as  being  certain  against  it. 

To  these  persons,  and  to  this  state  of  opinion  concerning,  re- 
ligion, the  foregoing  Treatise  is  adapted.  For,  all  the  ge- 
neral objections  against  the  moral  system  of  nattu'e  having 
been  obviated,  it  is  shown,  that  there  is  not  any  peculiar  pre- 
sumption at  all  against  Christianity,  either  considered  as  not 
discoverable  by  reason,  or  as  unlike  to  what  is  so  discovered ; 
nor  any  worth  mentioning,  against  it  as  miraculous,  if  any  at 
all :  none  certainly,  which  can  render  it  in  the  least  incredible. 
[t  is  shown,  that  upon  supposition  of  a  divine  revelation,  the 
analogy  of  nature  renders  it  beforehand  highly  credible,  I 
think  probable,  that  many  things  in  it  must  appear  liable  to 
great  objections  •  and  that  we  must  be  incompetent  judges  of 
it,  to  a  great  degree.  This  observation  is,  I  think,  unques- 
tionably true,  and  of  the  very  utmost  importance :  but  it  is 
urged,  as  I  hope  it  will  be  understood,  with  great  caution  of 
not  vilifying  the  faculty  of  reason,  which  is  '  the  candle  of  the 
Lord  within  us  ;'*  though  it  can  afford  no  light,  where  it  does 
not  shine  :  nor  judge,  where  it  has  no  principles  to  judge 
•,:pon.  The  objections  here  spoken  of,  being  first  answered 
in  the  view  of  objections  against  Christianity  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  are  in  the  next  pla^e  considered  as  urged  more  immedi- 
ately against  the  wisdom,  justice,  and  goodness  of  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation.  And  it  is  fully  made  or"  that  they  admit 

*  Prov.  xx.  27 


254  CONCLUSION.  [PART  If 

of  exactly  the  like  answer,  in  every  respect,  to  \v/iat  the  like 
objections  against  the  constitution  of  nature  admit  of:  that,  aa 
partial  views  give  the  appearance  of  wrong  to  things,  which 
•apon  farther  consideration  and  knowledge  of  their  relations  to 
other  things,  are  found  just  and  good  ;  so  it  is  perfectly  credi- 
ble, that  the  things  objected  against  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  the  Christian  dispensation,  may  be  rendered  instances  ol 
wisdom  and  goodness  by  their  reference  to  other  things  be- 
yond our  view  :  because  Christianity  is  a  scheme  as  much 
above  our  comprehension,  as  that  of  nature  j  and,  like  that,  a 
scheme  in  which  means  are  made  use  of  to  accomplish  ends, 
and  which,  as  is  most  credible,  may  be  carried  on  by  general 
laws.  And  it  ought  to  be  attended  to,  that  this  is  not  an  an- 
swer taken  merely  or  chiefly  from  our  ignorance  ;  but  from 
somewhat  positive,  which  our  observation  shows  us.  For,  tc 
hke  objections,  the  like  answer  is  experienced  to  be  just,  in 
numberless  parallel  cases.  The  objections  against  the  Chris 
tian  dispensation,  and  the  method  by  which  it  is  carried  on, 
having  been  thus  obviated,  in  general  and  together :  the  chief 
of  them  are  considered  distinctly,  and  the  particular  things 
objected  to  are  shown  credible,  by  their  perfect  analogy,  each 
part,  to  the  constitution  of  nature.  Thus,  if  man  be  fallen 
from  his  primitive  state,  and  to  be  restored,  and  infinite  wis- 
dom and  power  engages  in  accomplishing  our  recover}' ;  it 
were  to  have  been  expected,  it  is  said,  that  this  should  have 
been  effected  at  once,  and  not  by  such  a  long  series  of  means, 
and  such  a  various  economy  of  persons  and  things ;  one  dis- 
pensation preparatory  to  another,  this  to  a  farther  one,  and  so 
on  through  an  indefinite  number  of  ages,  before  the  end  of  the 
echeme  proposed  can  be  completely  accomplished ;  a  scheme 
conducted  by  infinite  wisdom,  and  executed  by  Almighty 
power.  But  now,  on  the  contrary,  our  finding  that  every 
thing  in  the  constitution  and  course  of  nature  is  thus  carried 
on,  shows  such  expectations  concerning  revelation  to  b» 
highly  unreasonable ;  and  is  a  satisfactory  answer  tc  them, 
when  urged  as  objections  against  the  credibility,  that  the 
great  scheme  of  Providence  in  the  redemption  of  tne  world, 
may  be  of  this  kind,  and  to  be  accomplished  in  this  manner. 
As  to  the  particular  method  of  our  redemption,  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  Mediator  between  God  and  man ;  this  has  been 
shown  to  be  most  obviously  analogous  to  the  general  con 
duct  of  nature,  t.  e.  tne  God  of  nature,  in  appointing  others  to 
be  the  instruments  of  his  mercy,  as  we  experience  in  the 
iaily  course  of  Providence.  The  condition  of  this  world 


H.]  CONCLUSION.  255 

which  the  doctrine  of  our  redemption  by  Christ  presupposes, 
BO  much  falls  in  wilh  natural  appearances,  that  heathen 
moralists  inferred  it  from  those  appearances ;  inferred,  that 
human  nature  was  fallen  from  its  original  rectitude,  and,  iii 
consequence  of  this,  degraded  from  its  primitive  happiness. 
Or,  however  this  opinion  came  into  the  world,  these  appear- 
ances must  have  kept  up  the  tradition,  and  confirmed  the  be- 
lief of  it.  And  it  was  the  general  opinion,  under  the  light  of 
nature,  that  repentance  and  reformation,  alone  and  by  itself, 
was  not  sufficient  to  do  away  sin,  and  procure  a  full  remission 
of  the  penalties  annexed  to  it ;  and  as  the  reason  of  the  thing 
does  not  at  all  lead  to  any  conclusion  ;  so  every  day's  expe- 
rience shows  us  that  reformation  is  not,  in  any  sort,  sufficient 
to  prevent  the  present  disadvantages  and  miseries,  which,  in 
the  natural  course  of  things,  God  has  annexed  to  folly  and 
extravagance.  Yet  there  may  be  ground  to  think,  that  the 
punishments,  which  by  the  general  laws  of  divine  govern- 
ment, are  annexed  to  vice,  may  be  prevented ;  that .  pro: 
vision  may  have  been,  even  originally,  made,  that  they  should 
be  prevented  by  some  means  or  other,  though  they  could  not 
by  reformation  alone.  For  we  have  daily  instances  of  such 
mercy,  in  the  general  conduct  of  nature ;  compassion  pro- 
vided ibr  misery,*  medicines  for  diseases,  friends  against  ene- 
mies. There  is  provisions  made,  in  the  original  constitution 
of  the  world,  that  much  of  the  natural  bad  consequences  of 
our  follies,  which  persons  themselves  alone  cannot  prevent, 
may  be  prevented  by  the  assistance  of  others ;  assistance, 
which  nature  enables,  and  disposes,  and  appoints  them  to 
afford.  By  a  method  of  goodness  analogous  to  this,  when 
the  world  lay  in  wickedness,  and  consequently  in  ruin,  '  God 
so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  begotten  Son'  to 
gave  it ;  and  '  he  being  made  perfect  by  suffering,  became 
the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  all  them  that  obey  him.'y 
Indeed,  neither  reason  nor  analogy  would  lead  us  to  think,  in 
particular,  that  the  interposition  of  Christ,  in  the  manner  in 
which  he  did  interpose,  would  be  of  that  efficacy  for  recovery 
of  the  world,  which  the  Scripture  teaches  us  it  was :  but 
neither  would  reason  nor  analogy  lead  us  to  think,  that  other 
particular  means  would  be  of  the  efficacy,  which  experience 
Bhows  they  are,  in  numberless  instances.  And  therefore,  as 
the  case  before  us  iocs  not  admit  of  experience,  so  that  neither 
reason  nor  analogy  can  show  how,  or  in  what  particular  way, 

*  Sermon  6th,  at  the  Rolls.  f  John  iii.  16.     Heb.  v.  9. 


256  CONCLUSION.  [PART  11 

the  interposition  of  Christ,  as  revealed  in  Scripture,  is  of  thai 
efficacy  which  it  is  there  represented  to  be  ;  this  is  no  kind 
nor  degree  of  presumption  against  its  being  really  of  that  effi- 
cacy. Farther :  the  objections  against  Christianity,  from  the 
light  of  it  not  being  universal,  nor  its  evidence  so  strong  as 
might  possibly  be  given  us,  have  been  answered  by  the  ge- 
neral-analog}^  of  nature.  That  God  has  made  such  variety 
of  creatures,  is  indeed  an  answer  to  the  former ;  but  that  he 
dispenses  his  gifts  in  such  variety,  both  of  degrees  and  kinds, 
amongst  creatures  of  the  same  species,  and  even  to  the  same 
individuals  at  different  times,  is  a  more  obvious  and  full  an- 
swer to  it.  And  it  is  so  far  from  being  the  method  of  Provi- 
dence, in  other  cases,  to  afford  us  such  overbearing  evidence 
as  some  require  in  proof  of  Christianity,  that,  on  the  contra^, 
the  evidence  upon  which  we  are  naturally  appointed  to  act  in 
common  matters,  throughout  a  very  great  part  of  life,  is 
doubtful  in  a  high  degree.  And,  admitting  the  fact,  that 
"  God  has  afforded  to  some  no  more  than  doubtful  evidence  oi 
religion,  the  same  account  may  be  given  of  it,  as  of  difficul- 
ties and  temptations  with  regard  to  practice.  But  as  it  is  not 
impossible,  surely,  that  this  alleged  doubtfulness  may  be 
men's  own  fault,  it  deserves  their  most  serious  consideration, 
whether  it  be  not  so.  However,  it  is  certain  that  doubting 
implies  a  degree  of  evidence  for  that  of  which  we  doubt,  and 
that  this  degree  of  evidence  as  really  lays  us  under  obliga- 
tions, as  demonstrative  evidence. 

The  whole  then  of  religion  is  throughout  credible ;  nor  is 
there,  I  think,  any  thing  relating  to  the  revealed  dispensation 
of  things  more  different  from  the  experienced  constitution  and 
course  of  nature,  than  some  parts  of  the  constitution  of  nature 
are  from  other  parts  of  it.  And  if  so,  the  only  question  which 
remains  is,  What  positive  evidence  can  be  alleged  for  the  truth 
of  Christianity  ?  This  too,  in  general,  has  been  considered, 
nnd  the  objections  against  it  estimated.  Deduct  therefore  what 
is  to  b"e  deducted  from  that  evidence,  upon  account  of  ?ny 
weight  which  may  be  thought  to  remain  in  these  objections, 
after  what  the  analogy  of  nature  has  suggested  in  answer  to 
them  ;  and  then  consider  what  are  the  practical  consequences 
from  ali  this,  upon  the  most  sceptical  principles  one  can  argue 
upon,  (for  I  am  writing  to  persons  who  entertain  these  princi- 
ples :)  and,  upon  such  consideration,  it  will  be  obvious,  that  im- 
morality, as  little  excure  as  it  admits  of  in  itself,  is  g 


PART  II.  CONCLUSION.  267 

aggravated,  in  persons  who  have  been  made  acquainted  with 
Christianity,  whether  they  believe  it  or  not ;  because  the  moral 
system  of  nature,  or  natural  religion,  which  Christianity  lays 
before  us,  approves  itself,  almost  intuitively,  to  a  reasonable 
mind,  upon  seeing  it  proposed.  In  the  next  place,  with  regard 
to  Christianity  it  will  be  observed,  that  there  is  a  middle,  be- 
tween a  full  satisfaction  of  the  truth  of  it,  and  the  satisfaction 
of  the  contrary.  The  middle  state  of  mind  between  these 
two  consists  in  a  serious  apprehension  the*  it  may  be  tru* 
joined  with  doubt,  whether  it  be  so.  And  this,  upon  the  best 
judgment  I  am  able  to  make,  is  as  far  towards  speculative  in- 
fidelity, as  any  sceptic  can  at  all  be  supposed  to  go,  who  has 
had  true  Christianity,  with  the  proper  evidence  of  it,  laid  be- 
foie  him,  and  has  in  any  tolerable  measure  considered  them. 
For  I  would  not  be  mistaken  to  comprehend  all  who  have 
ever  heard  of  it;  because  it  seems  evident,  that,  in  many 
countries  called  Christian,  neither  Christianity,  nor  its  evi- 
dence, are  fairly  laid  before  men.  And  in  places  where  both 
are,  there  appear  to  be  some  who  have  very  little  attended  to 
either,  and  who  reject  Christianity  with  a  scorn  proportionate 
to  their  inattention ;  and  yet  are  by  no  means  without  under- 
standing in  other  matters.  Now  it  has  been  shown,  that  a  se- 
rious apprehension  that  Christianity  may  be  true,  lays  per- 
sons under  the  strictest  obligations  of  a  serious  regard  to  it, 
throughout  the  whole  of  their  life ;  a  regard  not  the  same 
exactly,  but  in  many  respects  nearly  the  same  with  what  c. 
full  conviction  of  its  truth  would  lay  them  under.  Lastly,  i 
will  appear,  that  blasphemy  and  profaneness,  I  mean  with 
regar.i  to  Christianity,  are  absolutely  without  excuse.  For 
there  is  no  temptation  to  it,  but  from  the  wantonness  of  vanity 
or  mirth ;  and  these,  considering  the  infinite  importance  of 
the  subject,  are  no  such  temptations  as  to  afford  any  excuse 
for  it.  If  this  be  a  just  account  of  things,  and  yet  men  can 
go  on  to  vilify  or  disregard  Christianity,  which  is  to  talk  and 
act  as  if  they  had  a  demonstration  of  its  falsehood ;  there  is 
t:o  '.eason  to  think  they  would  alter  their  behaviour  to  any 
purpose,  though  there  were  a  demonstration  of  its  truth. 


2oS  Of    fKRSONAL    IDENTITY  DIM    I 

DISSERTATION  I. 
OF  PERSONAL   IDENTITY. 


WHETHER  we  are  to  live  in  a  future  state,  as  it  is  the  most 
impo/tant  question  which  can  possibly  be  asked,  so  it  is  the 
most  intelligible  one  which  can  be  expressed  in  language. 
Yet  strange  perplexities  have  been  raised  about  the  meaning 
of  that  identity,  or  sameness  of  person,  which  is  implied  in  the 
notion  of  our  living  now  and  hereafter,  or  in  any  two  suc- 
cessive moments.  And  the  solution  of  these  difficulties  hath 
been  stranger  than  the  difficulties  themselves.  For,  personal 
identity  has  been  explained  so  by  some,  as  to  render  the  in- 
quiry concerning  a  future  life  of  no  consequence  at  all  to  us, 
the  persons  who  are  making  it.  And  though  few  men  can 
be  misled  by  such  subtleties,  yet  it  may  be  proper  a  little  to 
consider  them. 

Now,  when  it  is  asked  wherein  personal  identity  consists, 
the  answer  should  be  the  same  as  if  it  were  asked,  wherein 
consists  similitude  or  equality ;  that  all  attempts  to  define, 
would  but  perplex  it.  Yet  there  is  no  difficulty  at  all  in  as- 
certaining the  idea.  For  as,  upon  two  triangles  being  com- 
pared or  viewed  together,  there  arises  to  the  mind  the  idea  of 
similitude  ;  or  upon  twice  two  and  four,  the  idea  of  equality ; 
so  likewise,  upon  comparing  the  consciousness  of  one's  self, 
or  one's  own  existence  in  any  two  moments,  there  as  immedi- 
ately arises  to  the  mind  the  idea  of  personal  identity.  And 
as  the  two  former  comparisons  not  only  give  the  idea  of  simili- 
tude and  equality,  but  also  shows  us,  that  two  triangles  are 
like,  and  twice  two  and  four  are  equal ;  so  the  latter  compa 
rison  not  only  gives  us  the  idea  of  personal  identity,  but  also 
shows  us  the  identity  of  ourselves  in  those  two  moments , 
the  present,  suppose,  and  that  immediately  past;  or  the 
present,  and  that  a  month,  a  year,  or  twenty  3'ears  past.  Or 
n  other  words,  by  reflecting  upon  that  which  is  myself  now 


DIBS.  I.]  OF    PERSONAL    IDENTITY.  259 

and  tliat  which  was  myself  twenty  years  ago,  I  discern  "they 
are  not  two,  but  one  and  the  same  self. 

But  though  consciousness  of  what  is  past  does  thus  ascer- 
tain our  personal  identity  to  ourselves,  yet,  to  sav  that  it 
makes  personal  identity,  or  is  necessary  to  our  being  the 
same  persons,  is  to  say,  that  a  person  has  not  existed  a  single 
moment,  nor  done  one  action,  but  what  he  can  remember ; 
indeed  none  but  what  he  reflects  upon.  And  one  should 
really  think  it  self-evident,  that  consciousness  of  personal 
Hentity  presupposes,  and  therefore  cannot  constitute,  per- 
sonal identity,  any  more  than  knowledge,  in  any  other  case, 
can  constitute  truth,  which  it  presupposes. 

This  wonderful  mistake  may  possibly  have  arisen  from 
hence,  that  to  be  endued  with  consciousness,  is  inseparable 
from  the  idea  of  a  person,  or  intelligent  being.  For,  this 
might  be  expressed  inaccurately  thus, — that  consciousness 
makes  personality ;  and  from  hence  it  might  be  concluded  to 
make  personal  identity.  But  though  present  consciousness 
of  what  we  at  present  do  and  feel,  is  necessary  to  our  being 
the  persons  we  now  are ;  yet  present  consciousness  of  past 
actions,  or  feelings,  is  not  necessary  to  our  being  the  same 
persons  who  performed  those  actions,  or  had  those  feelings. 

The  inquiry,  what  makes  vegetables  the  same  in  the  com- 
mon acceptation  of  the  word,  does  not  appear  to  have  any  re 
lation  to  this  of  personal  identity ;  because  the  word  same, 
when  applied  to  them  and  to  persons,  is  not  only  applied  to 
different  subjects,  but  it  is  also  used  in  different  senses.  For 
when  a  man  swears  to  the  same  tree,  as  having  stood  fifty 
years  in  the  same  place,  he  means  only  the  same  as  to  all  the 
purposes  of  property  and  uses  of  common  life,  and  not  that 
the  tree  has  been  all  that  time  the  same  in  the  strict  philoso- 
phical sense  of  the  word.  For  he  does  not  know  whether 
any  one  particle  of  the  present  tree  be  the  same  with  any  one 
particle  of  the  tree  which  stood  in  the  same  place  fifty  years 
ago.  And  if  they  have  not  orte  common  particle  of  matter, 
they  cannot  be  the  same  tree,  in  the  proper  philosophic  sense 
of  the  word  same  ,-  it  being  evidently  a  contradiction  in  terms, 
to  say  they  are,  when  no  part  of  their  substance,  and  no  one 
of  their  properties,  is  the  same  ;  no  part  of  their  substance,  by 
the  supposition  ;  no  one  of  their  properties,  because  it  is  al- 
lowed that  the  same  property  cannot  be  transferred  from  one 
substance  to  another.  And  therefore,  when  we  say  the  iden- 
tity or  sameness  of  a  plant  consists  in  a  continuation  of  the 
same  life  communicated  urcV<-  the  same  organization,  to  a 
13* 


260  Or    PERSONAL    IDENTITY.  [ciSS.  I 

number  of  particles  of  matter,  whether  the  same  or  not,  the 
word  same,  when  applied  to  life  and  to  organization,  cannot  pos- 
sibly be  undeistood  to  signify  what  it  signifies  in  this  very  sen- 
tence, when  applied  to  matter.  In  a  loose  and  popular  s^nse, 
then,  the  life,  and  the  organization,  and  the  plant,  are  justly 
said  to  be  the  same,  notwithstanding  the  perpetual  change  ol 
the  parts.  But  in  a  strict  and  philosophical  manner  of  speech, 
no  man,  no  being,  no  mode  of  being,  nor  any  thing,  can  be 
the  same  with  that,  with  which  it  hath  indeed  nothing  the 
same.  Now,  sameness  is  used  in  this  latter  sense  when  ap- 
plied to  persons.  The  identity  of  these,  therefore,  cannot  sub- 
sist with  diversity  of  substance. 

The  thing  here  considered,  and  demonstratively,  as  I  think, 
determined,  is  proposed  by  Mr.  Locke  in  these  words,  Whether 
it,  i.  e.  the  same  self  or  person,  be  the  same  identical  sub- 
stance ?  And  he  has  suggested  what  is  a  much  better  an- 
swer to  the  question  than  that  which  he  gives  it  in  form. 
For  he  defines  person,  a  thinking  intelligent  being,  &c.  and 
personal  identity  the  sameness  of  a  rational  being.*  The 
question  then  is,  whether  the  same  rational  being  is  the  same 
substance  ;  which  needs  no  answer,  because  being  and  sub- 
stance, in  this  place,  stand  for  the  same  idea.  The  ground 
of  the  doubt,  whether  the  same  person  be  the  same  substance 
is  said  to  be  this  ;  that  the  consciousness  of  our  own  existence 
in  youth  and  in  old  age,  or  in  any  two  joint  successive  mo- 
ments, is  not  the  same  individual  action^  i.  e.  not  the  same 
consciousness,  but  different  successive  consciousnesses.  Now 
it  is  strange  that  this  should  have  occasioned  such  perplexi- 
ties. For  it  is  surely  conceivable,  that  a  person  may  have 
a  capacity  of  knowing  some  object  or  other  to  be  the  same 
now,  which  it  was  when  he  contemplated  it  formerly ;  yet. 
in  this  case,  where,  by  the  supposition,  the  object  is  perceived 
to  be  the  same,  the  perception  of  it  in  any  two  moments  can- 
not be  one  and  the  same  perception.  And  thus,  though  the 
successive  consciousnesses  which  we  have  of  our  own  exist- 
ence  are  not  the  same,  yet  are  they  consciousnesses  of  one 
and  the  same  thing  or  object ;  of  the  same  person,  self,  or 
living  agent.  The  person,  of  whose  existence  the  conscious- 
ness 's  felt  now,  and  was  felt  an  hour  or  a  year  ago,  is  dis- 
cerned to  be,  not  two  persons,  but  one  and  the  same  person ; 
and  therefore  is  one  and  the  same. 

Mr.  Locke's  observations  upon  this  subject  appear  hasty  ; 

*  Lock«'g  Works,  voL  i.  p.  146.  t  Locke,  p.  146,  147. 


DIBS.  I.]  OP    PERSONAL    IDENTITY.  261 

and  he  seems  to  profess  himself  dissatisfied  with  suppositions, 
which  he  has  made  relating  to  it.*  But  some  of  those  hasty 
observa  ions  have  been  carried  to  a  strange  length  by  others  ; 
whose  notion,  when  traced  and  examined  to  the  bottom, 
amounts,  I  think,  to  this  :f  '  That  personality  is  not  a  perma 
nent,  but  a  transient  thing:  that  it  lives  and  dies,  begins  an.t 
ends,  continually :  that  no  one  can  any  more  remain  one  and 
the  same  person  two  moments  together,  than  two  successive 
moments  can  be  one  and  the  same  moment :  that  our  sub- 
stance is  indeed  continually  changing ;  but  whether  this  be 
so  or  not,  is,  it  seems,  nothing  to  the  purpose  ;  since  it  is  not 
substance,  but  consciousness  alone,  which  constitutes  person- 
ality ;  which  consciousness,  being  successive,  cannot  be  the 
same  in  any  two  moments,  nor  consequently  the  personality 
constituted  by  it.'  And  from  hence  it  must  follow,  that  it  is 
a  fallacy  upon  ourselves,  to  charge  our  present  selves  with 
any  thing  we  did,  or  to  imagine  our  present  selves  interested 
in  any  thing  which  befell  us  yesterday,  or  that  our  present 
self  will  be  interested  in  what  will  befall  us  to-morrow ;  since 
our  present  self  is  not,  in  reality,  the  same  with  the  self  of 
yesterday,  but  another  like  self  or  person  coming  in  its  room, 
and  mistaken  for  it ;  to  which  another  self  will  succeed  to- 
morrow. This,  I  say,  must  follow :  for  if  the  self  or  person 
of  to-day,  and  that  of  to-morrow,  are  not  the  same,  but  only 
like  persons,  the  person  of  to-day  is  really  no  more  interested 
in  what  will  befall  the  person  of  to-morrow,  than  in  what  will 
befall  any  other  person.  It  may  be  thought,  perhaps,  that 
this  is  not  a  just  representation  of  the  opinion  we  are  speaking 
of;  because  those  who  maintain  it  allow,  that  a  person  is  the 
same  as  far  back  as  his  remembrance  reaches.  And,  indeed, 
they  do  use  the  words,  identity  and  same  person.  Nor  will 
language  permit  these  words  to  be  laid  aside :  since  if  they 
were,  there  must  be,  I  know  not  what,  ridiculous  periphrasis 
substituted  in  the  room  of  them.  But  they  cannot,  consist- 
ently with  themselves,  mean,  that  the  person  is  really  the 
ame,  For  it  is  self-evident,  that  the  personality  cannot  be 
really  the  same,  if,  as  they  expressly  assert,  that  in  which  it 
consists  is  not  the  same.  And  as,  consistently  with  them- 
selves, they  cannot,  so,  I  think,  it  appears  they  do  not,  mean, 
that  the  person  is  really  the  same,  but  only  that  he  is  so  in  a 
fictitious  sense  :  in  such  a  sense  only  as  they  assert ;  for  this 

*  Locke,  p.  152. 

t  See  an  answer  to  Dr.  Clarke's  third  defence  of  his  letter  to  ME 
Dodwell,  2d  edit.  p.  44,  56,  &«. 


2C2  OF    PERSONAL    IDENTITY.  [DI38. 

they  do  assert,  that  any  number  of  persons  whatever  may  bij 
the  same  person.  The  bare  unfolding  this  notion,  and  laying 
it  thus  naked  and  open,  seems  the  best  confutation  of  it. 
Howjever,  since  great  stress  is.  said  to  be  put  upon  it,  I  add 
the  following  things : 

First,  This  notion  is  absolutely  contradictory  to  that  cer- 
tain conviction,  which  necessarily,  and  every  moment,  rises 
within  us,  when  we  turn  our  thoughts  upon  ourselves  ;  when 
we  reflect  upon  what  is  past,  and  look  forward  upon  what  ia 
to  come.  All  imagination  of  a  daily  change  of  that  living 
agent  which  each  man  calls  himself,  for  another,  or  of  any 
such  change  throughout  our  whole  present  life,  is  entirely 
borne  down  by  our  natural  sense  of  things.  Nor  is  it  possible 
for  a  person  in  his  wits  to  alter  his  conduct,  with  regard  to 
his  health  or  affairs,  from  a  suspicion,  that  though  he  should 
live  to-morrow,  he  should  not,  howrever,  be  the  same  person 
he  is  to-day.  And  yet,  if  it  be  reasonable  to  act,  with  respect 
to  a  future  life,  upon  this  notion,  that  personality  is  transient : 
it  is  reasonable  to  act  upon  it,  with  respect  to  the  present. 
Here  then  is  a  notion  equally  applicable  to  religion  and  to 
our  temporal  concerns  ;  and  every  one  sees  and  feels  the  in- 
expressible absurdity  of  it  in  the  latter  case.  If,  therefore, 
any  can  take  up  with  it  in  the  former,  this  cannot  proceed 
from  the  reason  of  the  thing,  but  must  be  owing  to  an  inward 
unfairness,  and  secret  corruption  of  heart. 

Secondly,  It  is  not  an  idea,  or  abstract  notion,  or  quality, 
but  a  being  only  which  is  capable  of  life  and  action,  of  happi- 
ness and  misery.  Now  all  beings  confessedly  continue  the 
same,  during  the  wliole  time  of  their  existence.  Consider 
then  a  living  being  now  existing,  and  which  has  existed  for 
any  time  alive :  this  living  being  must  have  done  and  suf- 
fered and  enjoyed,  what  it  has  done  and  suffered  and  enjoyed 
formerly,  (this  living  being,  I  say,  and  not  another,)  as  really 
as  it  does  and  suffers  and  enjoj's,  what  it  does  and  suffers  and 
enjoys  this  instant.  All  these  successive  actions,  enjoyments, 
and  sufferings,  are  actions,  enjoyments,  and  sufferings,  of  the 
same  living  being.  And  they  are  so,  prior  to  all  consideia 
tion  of  its  remembering  or  forgetting ;  sinr  e  remembering  or 
forgetting  can  make  no  alteration  in  the  truth  of  past  matter 
of  fact.  And  suppose  this  being  endued  with  limited  poweis 
of  knowledge  and  memory,  there  is  no  more  difficulty  in  con 
ceiving  it  to  have  a  power  of  knowing  itself  to  be  the  same 
living  being  which  it  was  some  time  ago  of  remembering 
some  of  Us  actions,  sufferings,  and  enjoyments,  and  forgetting 


DISS.  I.J  OP    PERSONAL    IDENTITY.  203 

others,  than  in  conceiving  it  to  know,  or  remember,  or  forget 
any  thing  else. 

Thirdly,  Every  person  is  conscious,  that  'he  is  now  the 
?ame  person  or  self  he  was,  as  far  back  as  his  remembrance 
reaches  ;  since,  when  any  one  reflects  upon  a  past  action  of 
his  own,  he  is  just  as  certain  of  the  person  who  did  that  action, 
namely  himself,  the  person  who  now  reflects  upon  it,  as  he  is 
certain  that  the  action  was  at  all  done.  Nay,  very  often  a  per- 
son's assurance  of  an  action  having  been  done,  of  which  he  is 
absolutely  assured,  arises  wholly  from  the  consciousness  that 
he  himself  did  it.  And  this  he,  person,  or  self,  must  either  be  a 
substance,  or  the  property  of  some  substance.  If  he,  if  person, 
be  a  substance ;  then  consciousness  that  he  is  the  same  per- 
son, is  consciousness  that  he  is  the  same  substance.  If  the 
person,  or  he,  be  the  property  of  a  substance  ;  still  conscious- 
ness that  he  is  the  same  property,  is  as  certain  a  proof  that 
his  substance  remains  the  same,  as  consciousness  that  he  re 
mains  the  same  substance  would  be ;  since  the  same  property 
cannot  be  transferred  from  one  substance  to  another. 

But  though  we  are  thus  certain  that  we  are  the  same 
agents,  living  beings,  or  substances,  now,  which  we  were  as 
far  back  as  our  remembrance  reaches ;  yet  it  is  asked,  whether 
we  may  not  possibly  be  deceived  in  it  ?  And  this  question 
may  be  asked  at  the  end  of  any  demonstration  whatever ;  be- 
cause it  is  a  question  concerning  the  truth  of  perception  by 
memory.  And  he  who  can  doubt,  whether  perception  by 
memory  can  in  this  case  be  depended  upon,  may  doubt  also, 
whether  perception  by  deduction  and  reasoning,  which  also 
include  memory,  or,  indeed,  whether  intuitive  perception  can. 
Hers  then  we  can  go  no  farther.  For  it  is  ridiculous  to  at- 
tempt to  prove  the  truth  of  those  perceptions,  whose  truth  we 
can  no  otherwise  prove,  than  by  .other  perceptions  of  exactly 
tl  e  same  kind  Avith  them,  and  which  there  is  just  the  same 
ground  to  su?poct ;  or  to  attempt  to  j:rove  the  truth  of  our  ta- 
culties,  which  can  no  otherwise  be  proved,  than  by  the  use  01 
Cieans  of  those  very  suspected  faculties  themselves. 


264  Of   THE    NATURE  OF   VIRTUE.  [niSS.  II, 

•  f  '••• 

DISSERTATION  H 
OF   THE  NATURE   OF  VIRTUE. 


THAI  which  renders  beings  capable  of  moral  government, 
is  their  having  a  moral  nature,  and  moral  faculties  of  percep- 
tion and  of  action.  Brute  creatures  are  impressed  and  actu- 
ated by  various  instincts  and  propensions :  so  also  are  we. 
But,  additional  to  this,  we  have  a  capacity  of  reflecting  upon 
actions  and  characters,  and  making  them  an  object  to  our 
thoughts ;  and  on  doing  this,  we  naturally  and  unavoidably 
approve  some  actions,  under  the  peculiar  view  of  their  being 
virtuous  and  of  good  desert ;  and  disapprove  others,  as  vicious 
»nd  of  ill  desert.  That  we  have  this  moral  approving  and 
disapproving*  faculty,  is  certain  from  our  experiencing  it  in 
ourselves,  and  recognis;ng  it  in  each  other.  It  appears  from 
our  exercising  it  unavoidably,  in  the  approbation  and  disap- 
probation even  of  feigned  characters :  from  the  words,  right 
and  wrong,  odious  and  amiable,  base  and  worthy,  with  many 
others  of  like  signification  in  all  languages,  applied  to  actions 
and  characters :  from  the  many  written  systems  of  morals 
which  suppose  it ;  since  it  cannot  be  imagined,  that  all  these 
authors,  throughout  all  these  treatises,  had  absolutely  no 
meaning  at  all  to  their  words,  or  a  meaning  merely  chimeri- 

*Tliis  way  of  speaking  is  taken  from  Epictetus,f  and  is  made  use  of 
as  seeming  the  most  full,  and  least  liable  to  cavil.  And  the  moral  fa- 
culty may  be  understood  to  have  these  two  epithets,  SoKi/taaTiicri  and 
uxoioiitiiaiTTticri,  upon  a  double  account ;  because,  upon  a  survey  of  ac- 
tions, whether  before  or  after  they  are  done,  it  determines  them  to  bo 
good  or  evil ;  and  also  because  it  determines  itself  to  be  the  guide  of  ac- 
tion and  of  life,  in  contradistinction  from  all  other  faculties,  or  natural  prin- 
ciples of  action  :  in  the  very  same  manner,  as  speculative  reason  directlf 
and  naturally  judges  of  speculative  truth  and  falsehood  ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  is  attended  with  a  consciousness  upon  reflection,  that  the 


natural  right  to  judge  of  them  belongs  to  it. 
t  Arr.  Epict.  lib.  i.  a 


i.  cap.  1. 


DI8S.  II.]  OF    THE    NATURE    OF    VIRTUE.  265 

cal :  from  our  natural  sense  of  gratitude,  which  implies  a  dis- 
tinction between  merely  being  the  instrument  of  good,  and 
intending  it :  from  the  like  distinction,  every  one  makes,  be- 
tween injury  and  mere  harm,  which  Hobbes  says,  is  peculiar 
to  mankind  ;  and  between  injury  and  just  punishment,  a  dis- 
tinction plainly  natural,  prior  to  the  consideration  of  human 
laws.  It  is  manifest,  great  part  of  common  language,  and  of 
common  behaviour  over  the  world,  is  formed  upon  supposition 
of  such  a  moral  faculty ;  whether  called  conscience,  moral 
reason,  moral  sense,  or  divine  reason ;  whether  considered  as 
a  sentiment  of  the  understanding,  or  as  a  perception  of  the 
heart,  or,  which  seems  the  truth,  as  including  both.  Nor  is 
it  at  all  doubtful  in  the  general,  what  course  of  action  this 
faculty,  or  practical  discerning  power  within  us,  approves, 
and  what  it  disapproves.  For,  as  much  as  it  has  been  dis- 
puted wherein  virtue  consists,  or  whatever  ground  for  doubt 
there  may  be  about  particulars,  yet,  in  general,  there,  is  in 
reality  a  universally  acknowledged  standard  of  it.  It  is  that, 
which  all  ages  and  all  countries  have  made  profession  of  in 
public  ;  it  is  that,  which  every  man  you  meet,  puts  on  the 
show  of;  it  is  that,  which  the  primary  and  fundamental  laws 
of  all  civil  constitutions,  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  make  it 
:heir  business  and  endeavour  to  enforce  the  practice  of  upon 
mankind  ;  namely,  justice,  veracity,  and  regard  to  common 
good.  It  being  manifest  then,  in  general,  that  we  have  such 
a  faculty  or  discernment  as  this,  it  may  be  of  use  to  remark 
some  things,  more  distinctly  concerning  it. 

First,  It  ought  to  be  observed,  that  the  object  of  this  fa 
culty  is  actions,*  comprehending  under  that  name,  active  or 
practical  principles  ;  those  principles  from  which  men  would 
act,  if  occasions  and  circumstances  gave  them  power ;  and 
which,  when  fixed  and  habitual  in  any  person,  we  call,  hia 
character.  It  does  not  appear,  that  brutes  have  the  least 
reflex  sense  of  actions,  as  distinguished  from  events ;  or  that 
will  and  design,  which  constitute  the  very  nature  of  actions 
as  such,  are  at  all  an  object  to  their  perception.  But  to  ours 
they  are  ;  and  they  are  the  object,  and  the  only  one,  of  the 
approving  and  disapproving  faculty.  Acting,  conduct,  be- 
haviour, abstracted  from  all  regard  to  what  is,  in  fact  and 
event,  the  consequence  of  it,  is  itself  the  natural  object  of  the 
moral  discernment,  as  speculative  truth  and  falsehood  is  of 

*  ov&e  fi  aprirrt  Kat  Kama — cv  matt,  aXXa  evtpyttn.      M.   Anton.  1.   9.    16. 
Vlrtutis  laas  omnis  in  actione  consistit.    Cic.  Oil.  1.  1.  c.  6. 
12 


JJ66  OP    THE    NATURE    OF    VIRTUE.  DISS.  /I 

speculative  reason.  Intention  of  such  and  such  consequence-*, 
indeed,  is  always  included  ;  for  it  is  part  of  the  action  itself, 
but  though  the  intended  good  or  bad  consequences  do  net 
follow,  we  have  exactly  the  same  sense  of  the  action  as  il 
they  did.  In  like  manner,  we  think  well  or  ill  of  characters, 
ubs!  racted  from  all  consideration  of  the  good  or  the  evil,  which 
persons  of  such  characters  have  it  actually  in  their  power  to 
do.  We  never,  in  the  moral  way,  applaud  or  blame  either 
ourselves  or  others,  for  what  we  enjoy  or  what  we  suffer,  or 
for  having  impressions  made  upon  us  which  we  consider  as 
altogether  out  of  our  power ;  but  only  for  what  we  do,  or 
would  have  done,  had  it  been  in  our  power ;  or  for  what  we 
leave  undone  which  we  might  have  done,  or  would  have  left 
undone  though  we  could  have  done  it. 

Secondly,  Our  sense  or  discernment  of  actions,  as  morally 
good  gr  evil,  implies  in  it  a  sense  or  discernment  of  them  as  of 
good  or  ill  desert.  It  may  be  difficult  to  explain  this  percep- 
tion, so  as  to  answer  all  the  questions  which  may  be  asked 
concerning  it ;  but  every  one  speaks  of  such  and  such  actions 
as  deserving  punishment ;  and  it  is  not,  I  suppose,  pretended, 
that  they  have  absolutely  no  meaning  at  all  to  the  expres- 
sion. Now,  the  meaning  plainly  is,  not  that  we  conceive  it 
for  the  good  of  society,  that  the  doer  of  such  actions,  should 
be  made  to  suffer.  For  if  unhappily  it  were  resolved,  that  a 
man  who,  by  some  innocent  action  was  infected  with  the 
plague,  should  be  left  to  perish,  lest,  by  other  people  coming 
near  him,  the  infection  should  spread ;  no  one  would  say,  he 
deserved  this  treatment.  Innocence  and  ill  desert  are  incon- 
sistent ideas.  Ill  desert  always  supposes  guilt ;  and  if  one 
be  not  part  of  the  other,  yet  they  are  evidently  and  naturally 
connected  in  our  mind.  The  sight  of  a  man  in  misery  nises 
our  compassion  towards  him  ;  and,  if  this  misery  be  inflicted 
on  him  by  another,  our  indignation  against  the  author  of  it. 
But  when  we  are  informed,  that  the  sufferer  is  a  villain,  and 
is  punished  only  for  his  treachery  or  cruelty  ;  our  compassion 
exceedingly  lessens,  and,  in  many  instances,  our  indignation 
wholly  subsides.  Now,  what  produces  this  effect,  is  the  con- 
ception of  that  in  the  sufferer,  which  we  call  ill  desert.  Upon 
considering  then,  or  viewing  together,  our  notion  of  vice  and 
'hat  of  misery,  there  results  a  third,  that  of  ill  desert.  And 
thus  there  is  in  human  creatures  an  association  of  the  two 
ideas,  natural  and  moral  evil,  wickedness  and  punishment. 
If  this  association  were  merely  artificial  or  accidental,  it  wer« 
nothing;  but  being  most  unquestionably  natural,  it  greatly 


OISS.  H.]  «F  THE  MATURE  OF  VIRTUE.  267 

concerns  us  ',o  attend  to  it,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  explain 
it  away. 

It  may  be  ooserved  farther,  concerning  our  perception  ol 
good  and  of  ill  desert,  that  the  former  is  very  weak  with 
respect  to  common  instances  of  virtue.  One  reason  of  which 
may  bo,  that  it  does  not  appear  to  a  spectator,  how  far  such 
instances  of  virtue  proceed  from  a  virtuous  principle,  or  in 
what  degree  this  principle  is  prevalent  5  since  a  very  weak 
regard  to  virtue  may  be  sufficient  to  make  men  act  well  in 
many  common  instances.  And  on  the  other  hand,  our  per- 
ception of  ill  desert  in  vicious  actions  lessens,  in  proportion  to 
the  temptations  men  are  thought  to  have  had  to  such  vices. 
For,  vice  in  human  creatures  consisting  chiefly  in  the  absence 
or  want  of  the  virtuous  principle,  though  a  man  be  overcome, 
Buppose,  by  tortures,  it  does  not  from  thence  appear,  to  what 
degree  the  virtuous  principle  was  wanting.  All  that  appears, 
is  that  he  had  it  not  in  such  a  degree,  as  to  prevail  over  the 
temptation  ;  but  possibly  he  had  it  in  a  degree,  which  would 
have  rendered  him  proof  against  common  temptations. 

Thirdly,  Our  perception  of  vice  and  ill  deserts  arises  from, 
and  is  the  result  of,  a  comparison  of  actions  with  the  nature 
and  capacities  of  the  agent.  For,  the  mere  neglect  of  doing 
what  we  ought  to  do,  would,  in  many  cases,  be  determined  by 
all  men  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  vicious.  And  this  deter- 
mination must,  arise  from  such  comparison,  and  be  the  result 
of.  it ;  because  such  neglect  would  not  be  vicious  in  creatures 
of  other  natures  and  capacities,  as  brutes.  And  it  is  the  same 
also  with  respect  to  positive  vices,  or  such  as  consist  in  doing 
what  we  ought  not.  For,  every  one  has  a  different  sense  of 
harm  done  by  an  idiot,  madman,  or  child,  and  by  one  of  n.ature 
and  common  understanding ;  though  the  action  of  both, 
including  the  intention,  which  is  part  of  the  action,  be  the 
same  :  as  it  may  be,  since  idiots  and  madmen,  as  well  as 
children,  are  capable,  not  only  of  doing  mischief,  but  also  of 
intending  it.  Now,  this  difference  must  arise  from  somewhat 
discerned  in  the  nature  or  capacities  of  one,  which  renders  the 
action  vicious  ;  and  the  want  of  which  in  the  other,  renders 
the  same  action  innocent,  or  less  vicious  :  and  this  plainly 
supposes  a  comparison,  whether  reflected  upon  or  not,  between 
ths  action  and  capacities  of  the  agent,  previous  to  our  deter- 
mining an  action  to  be  vicious.  And  hence  arises  a  propel 
application  of  the  epithets,  incongruous,  unsuitable,  dispio- 
portionate,  unfit,  to  actions  which  our  moral  faculty  deU.-nnines 
lo  be  vicious. 


268  OF  THE  NATURE  OF  VIRTUE.  [PISS.  It 

Fourthly,  It  deserves  to  be  considered,  whether  men  ar« 
more  at  liberty,  in  point  of  morals,  to  make  themselves  misera- 
ble without  reason,  than  to  make  other  people  so  ;  or  disso- 
lutely to  neglect  thsir  own  greater  good,  for  the  sake  of  a 
present  lesser  gratification,  than  they  are  to  neglect  the  good 
of  others,  whom  nature  has  committed  to  their  care.  It 
should  seem,  that  a  due  concern  about  our  own  interest  or 
happiness,  and  a  reasonable  endeavor  to  secure  and  promote 
it,  which  is,  I  think,  very  much  the  meaning  of  the  word 
prudence  in  our  language  ;  it  should  seem,  that  this  is  virtue, 
and  the  contrary  behaviour  faulty  and  blameable  :  since,  in 
the  calmest  way  of  reflection,  we  approve  of  the  first,  and 
condemn  the  other  conduct,  both  in  ourselves  and  otht-rs. 
This  approbation  and  disapprobation  are  altogether  different 
from  mere  desire  of  our  own,  or  of  their  happiness,  and  from 
sorrow  upon  missing  it.  For  the  object  or  occasion  of  this 
Jast  kind  of  perception,  is  satisfaction  or  uneasiness  ;  whereas 
the  object  of  the  first  is  active  behaviour.  In  one  case,  what 
our  thoughts  fix  upon  is  our  condition  ;  in  the  other,  our  con- 
duct. It  is  true,  indeed,  that  nature  has  not  given  us  so  sen- 
sible a  disapprobation  of  imprudence  and  folly,  either  in  our- 
selves or  others,  as  of  falsehood,  injustice,  and  cruelty ;  I 
suppose,  because  that  constant  habitual  sense  of  private  inte- 
rest and  good,  which  we  always  carry  about  with  us,  renders 
such  sensible  disapprobation  less  necessary,  less  wanting,  to 
keep  us  from  imprudently  neglecting  our  own  happiness,  and 
foolishly  injuring  ourselves,  than  it  is  necessary  and  wanting 
to  keep  us  from  injuring  others,  to  whose  good  we  cannot  have 
so  strong  and  constant  a  regard;  and  also,  because  impru- 
der~e  and  folly,  appearing  to  bring  its  own  punishment,  more 
immediately  and  constantly  than  injurious  behaviour,  it  lese 
needs  the  additional  punishment  which  would  be  inflicted  upon 
it  by  others,  had  they  the  same  sensible  indignation  against  it. 
as  against  injustice,  and  fraud,  and  cruelty.  Besides,  unhap- 
piness  being  in  itself  the  natural  object  of  compassion,  the 
unhappiness  which  people  bring  upon  themselves,  though  it 
be  wilfully,  excites  in  us  some  pity  for  them  ;  and  this,  of 
course,  lessens  our  displeasure  against  them.  But  still  it  is 
matter  of  experience,  that  we  are  formed  so  as  to  reflect  very 
severely  upon  the  greater  instances  of  imprudent  neglect  and 
foolish  rashness,  both  in  ourselves  and  others.  In  instances 
of  this  kind,  men  often  say  of  themselves  with  remorse,  and 
of  others  with  some  indignation,  that  they  deserve  to  suffer 
•uch  calamities,  because  they  brought  them  upon  themselves 


6I8S.  II.]  OF  THE  NATURE  OF  VIRTUE.  269 

and  would  not  take  warning'.  Partic  jlarly  when  persona 
come  to  poverty  and  distress  by  a  long  course  01'  extrava- 
gance, and  after  frequent  admonitions,  though  without  false- 
hood or  injustice ;  we  plainly  do  not  regard  such  people  as 
like  objects  of  compassion,  with  those  who  are  brought  into 
the  same  condition  by  unavoidable  accidents.  From  these 
things  it  appears,  that  prudence  is  a  species  of  virtue,  and 
folly  of  vice  :  meaning  by  folly,  somewhat  quite  different  from 
mere  incapacity ;  a  thoughtless  want  of  that  regard  and 
attention  to  our  own  happiness,  which  we  had  capacity  for. 
And  this  the  word  properly  includes,  and,  as  it  seems,  "in  its 
usual  acceptation  ;  for  we  scarce  apply  it  to  brute  creatures. 

However,  if  any  person  be  disposed  to  dispute  the  matter, 
I  shall  very  willingly  give  him  up  the  words  virtue  and  vice, 
as  not  applicable  to  prudence  and  folly ;  but  must  beg  leave 
to  insist,  that  the  faculty  within  us,  which  is  the  judge  of  ac- 
tions, approves  of  prudent  actions  and  disapproves  imprudent 
ones  ;  Tsay,  prudent  and  imprudent  actions  as  such,  and  con- 
sidered distinctly  from  the  happiness  or  misery  which  they 
occasion.  And  by  the  way,  this  observation  may  help  to 
determine,  what  justness  there  is  in  that  objection  against  re- 
ligion, that  it  teaches  us  to  be  interested  and  selfish. 

Fifthly,  Without  inquiring  how  far,  and  in  what  sense, 
virtue  is  resolvable  into  benevolence,  and  vice  into  the  want 
of  it ;  it  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that  benevolence,  and  the 
want  of  it,  singly  considered,  are  in  no  sort  the  whole  of  virtue 
and  vice.  Foi  if  this  were  the  case,  in  the  review  of  one's 
own  character,  or  that  of  others,  our  moral  understanding 
and  moral  sense  would  be  indifferent  to  every  thing,  but  the 
degrees  in  which  benevolence  prevailed,  and  the  degrees  in 
which  it  was  wanting.  That  is,  we  should  never  approve  of 
benevolence  to  some  persons  rather  than  to  others,  nor  disap- 
prove injustice  and  falsehood  upon  any  other  account,  than 
merely  as  an  overbalance  of  happiness  was  foreseen  likely  to 
be  produced  by  the  first,  and  of  misery  by  the  second.  But 
now,  on  the  contrary,  suppose  two  men  competitors  for  any 
thing  whatever,  which  would  be  of  equal  advantage  to  each 
of  them  ;  though  nothing  indeed  would  be  more  impel linent, 
than  for  a  siranger  to  busy  himself  to  get  one  of  them  prefer- 
red to  the  other ;  yet  such  endeavor  would  be  virtue,  in  behalf 
of  a  friend  or  benefactor,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  of 
distant  consequences :  as  that  example  of  gratitude,  and  the 
cultivation  of  friendship,  would  be  of  general  good  to  the 
world.  Again,  suppose  one  man  should,  by  fraud  or  violence 


970  OF  THE  NATURE  OF  VIRTUE.  [D1SS.  li 

take  from  another  the  fruit  of  his  labor  with  intent  to  give  it  to 
a  third,  who,  he  thought,  would  have  as  much  pleasure  from 
it  as  would  balance  the  pleasure  which  the  first  possessor 
would  have  had  in  the  enjoyment,  and  his  vexation  in  the  losa 
of  it:  suppose  also,  that  no  bad  consequences  would  follow  ; 
yet  such  an  action  would  surely  be  vicious.  Nay,  farther, 
were  treachery,  violence,  and  injustice,  no  otherwise  vicious, 
than  as  foreseen  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  misery  to 
society  ;  then,  if  in  any  case  a  man  could  procure  to  himseli 
as  great  advantage  by  an  act  of  injustice,  as  the  whole  fore- 
seen inconvenience,  likely  to  be  brought  upon  others  by  it, 
would  amount  to,  such  a  piece  of  injustice  would  not  be  faulty 
or  vicious  at  all ;  because  it  would  be  no  more  than,  in  any 
other  case,  for 'a  man  to  prefer  his  own  satisfaction  to  another's 
in  equal  degrees.  The  fact  then  appears  to  be,  that  we  are 
constituted  so  as  to  condemn  falsehood,  unprovoked  violence, 
injustice,  and  to  approve  of  benevolence  to  some  preferably  to 
others,  abstracted  from  all  consideration  which  conduct  is 
likeliest  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  happiness  or  misery. 
And  therefore,  were  the  author  of  nature  to  propose  nothing 
to  himself  as  an  end  but  the  production  of  happiness,  were 
his  moral  character  merely  that  of  benevolence ;  yet  ours  is 
not  so.  Upon  that  supposition,  indeed,  the  only  reason  of  his 
giving  us  the  above-mentioned  approbation  of  benevolence  to 
some  persons  rather  than  to  c; tiers,  and  disapprobation  ol 
falsehood,  unprovoked  violence,  and  injustice,  must  be,  that  he 
foresaw  this  constitution  of  our  nature  would  produce  more 
happiness,  than  forming  us  with  a  temper  of  mere  genera} 
benevolence.  But  still,  since  this  is  our  constitution,  false- 
hood, violence,  injustice,  must  be  vice  in  us,  and  benevolence 
to  some  preferably  to  others,  virtl*e,  abstracted  from  all  consi- 
deration of  the  overbalance  of  evil  or  good  which  they  may 
appear  likely  to  produce. 

Now,  if  human  creatures  are  endued  with  such  a  moral 
nature  as  we  have  been  explaining,  or  with  a  moral  faculty 
the  natural  object  uf  which  is  actions  ;  moral  government 
must  consist  in  rendering  them  happy  and  unhappy,  in 
rewarding  and  punishing  them,  as  they  follow,  neglect,  or 
depart  from,  the  moral  rule  of  action  interwoven  in  their 
nature,  or  suggested  and  enforced  by  this  moral  faculty  ;*  in 
rewarding  and  punishing  them  upon  account  of  their  so  doing, 

I  am  not  sensible  that  I  have,  in  this  fifth  observation,  con- 
tradicted what  any  author  designed  to  assert.  But  some  oi 

*  Part  li.  Chap.  6. 


•JF98.  II.]  OP  THE  NATURE  OF  VIRTUE.  271 

great  and  distinguished  merit  have,  I  think,  expressed  then> 
selves  in  a  manner,  which  may  occasion  some  danger  to  care 
less  readers,  of  imagining  the  whole  of  virtue  to  consist  in 
singly  aiming,  according  to  the  best  of  their  judgment,  at 
promoting  iho  happiness  of  mankind  in  the  present  state  ; 
and  the  whole  of  vice,  in  doing  what  they  foresee,  or  might 
foresee,  is  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  unhappir.ess  in 
it ;  than  which  mistakes,  none  can  be  conceived  more  terrible. 
For  it  is  certain,  that  some  of  the  most  shocking  instances  of 
.njustice,  adultery,  murder,  perjury,  and  even  of  persecution, 
ma}',  in  many  supposable  cases,  not  have  the  appearance  of 
being  likely  to  produce  an  overbalance  of  misery  in  the  pre- 
sent st?.te  ;  perhaps  sometimes  may  have  the  contrary  appear- 
ance. For  this  reflection  might  easily  be  carried  on  ;  but  I 

forbear. The  happiness  of  the  world  is   the  concern  of 

Him,  who  is  the  Lord  and  the  proprietor  of  it ;  nor  do  we 
know  what  we  are  about,  when  we  endeavor  to  promote  the 
good  of  mankind  in  any  ways  but  those  which  he  has  direct- 
ed ;  that  is,  indeed,  in  all  ways  not  contrary  to  veracity  and 
justice.  I  speak  thus  upon  supposition  of  persons  really 
endeavoring,  in  some  sort,  to  do  good  without  regard  to  these. 
But  the  truth  seems  to  be,  that  such  supposed  endeavors  pro- 
ceed, almost  always,  from  ambition,  the  spirit  of  party,  or 
some  indirect  principle,  concealed  perhaps  in  great  measure 
from  persons  themselves.  And  though  it  is  our  business  and 
our  duty  to  endeavor,  within  the  bounds  of  veracity  and  jus- 
tice, to  contribute  to  the  ease,  convenience,  and  even  cheerful- 
ness and  diversion  of  our  fellow-creatures;  yet,  from  our  short 
views,  it  is  greatly  uncertain  whether  this  endeavor  will,  in 
particular  instances,  produce  an  overbalance  of  happiness 
upon  the  whole  ;  since  so  many  and  distant  things  must  come 
into  the  account.  And  that  which  makes  it  our  duty,  is,  that 
there  is  some  appearance  that  it  will,  and  no  positive  appear- 
ance sufficient  to  balance  this,  on  the  contrary  side  ;  and  also, 
that  such  benevolent  endeavor  is  a  cultivation  of  that  most 
excellent  of  all  virtuous  principles,  the  active  principle  of  be- 
nevolence. 

However,  though  veracity,  as  well  as  justice,  is  to  be  cv, 
rule  of  life,  it  must  be  added,  otherwise  a  snare  will  be  laid  7,1 
•he  way  of  some  plain  men,  that  the  use  of  common  forms  of 
Bpeech  generally  understood,  cannot  be  falsehood ;  and,  in 
general,  that  there  can  be  no  designed  falsehood  without  de- 
signing to  deceive.  It  must  likewise  be  observed,  that,  IP 
,  a  man  may  be  under  the  strictest  obligationa 


»72  0»  THS  KATI7RE  OF  VIBTDB.  [DIM.  O. 

to  what  he  foresees  will  deceive,  without  his  intending  it.  For 
it  is  impossible  not  to  foresee,  that  the  words  and  actions  of 
men  in  different  ranks  and  emplojTnents,  and  of  different  edu- 
cations, will  perpetually  be  mistaken  by  each  other  ;  and  it 
cannot  but  be  so,  whilst  they  will  judge  with  the  utmost  care- 
lessness, as  they  daily  do,  of  what  thoy  are  not,  perhaps, 
enough  informed  to  be  competent  judges  of.  even  though  they 
xmsidered  it  with  great  attention. 


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